


Bye Bye Blackbird

by ConnieBailey



Category: Justified
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-06 01:59:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17930639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnieBailey/pseuds/ConnieBailey
Summary: The lead singer of the rock band Stone the Crowes has a stalker. Management hires bodyguard Raylan Givens to keep him alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bye Bye Blackbird is a Justified Alternate Universe story. It's almost finished, but I don't like to post chapters until I write the epilogue. I'm posting the prologue as a kind of trailer, if you will. I anticipate being finished by the end of week, but we all know that shit happens. I hope you enjoy this peek at a fic that was nearly called Murder of Crowes.

Prologue

 

The shadows are dark and thick in the folds of the curtain pulled back from the stage. It’s a small auditorium and ancient, with a smokers’ loge and a raised semicircular stage against the back wall, rows of fold-up seats marching down a gentle incline. The man in the shadows appreciates the faded grandeur of chipped gold paint, velvet upholstery, and even the musty smell of the big, thick curtains that hide him from sight.

He returns his attention to the brightly lit stage where the performers are rehearsing. This is no community theater play or high school talent show. Stone the Crowes, an up-and-coming band, are playing tonight. He watches the young men in their bright clothing, watches the supple limbs as they move about the stage, watches the way their hair shines as flows back from their beautiful faces. He watches out of love. He watches out of hate. He watches because he cannot help himself.

And he watches one in particular. The lead singer’s stage presence is so blatantly erotic, the watcher is convinced the young man is possessed by a demon of lust. As he gazes intently, the singer throws an arm around the neck of the lead guitarist. His breath quickens as the raven-haired guitar player turns his head, his lips almost touching the singer’s skin as they harmonize. His heartbeat triples as the gap is closed, and the singer’s sensual mouth moves on the guitarist’s lips. He turns away, shaking and sweating, his fists clenched, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. He stands rigidly until the spell passes.

When he has mastered himself, he looks at the stage again. The russet-haired singer is still hanging from the guitarist’s shoulder. Both are laughing. The watcher is enthralled by the singer’s mouth. The way the lips curve and recurve, each small movement a change of expression, endlessly varied and infinitely fascinating. The glimpses of strong, white teeth. The pointed canines denting the pink lower lip. The simple act of speaking was a seduction. And when he sang… 

The watcher realizes he’s falling into a trance, as he does when he sits in his van watching the only Stone the Crowes video in existence, as he does when he daydreams about that mouth and what he would do with it. He pushes the point of the knife he holds into the ball of his thumb, next to other small scars, and the pain clears the fog. He dared not become mesmerized in public where he would be easy prey. Quickly and quietly, he makes his way unseen to an emergency exit.

Break

The watcher stepped into the bright daylight, walked briskly down the alley, and was out of sight of the old auditorium in seconds. His van was parked on the street a half block away. In less than two minutes, he was locking the door and turning the key in the ignition.

As he drove to his spot at a rest area just off the interstate, he was careful to keep sinful thoughts of the lithe and alluring singer from distracting him. Soon, he’d be parked, and he could fantasize to his heart’s content.

The watcher drove onto the grass and past the picnic tables to the bordering woods. He pulled in under the shade of some cottonwood trees, turned off the engine, and started the small, muffled generator bolted to the back. As he listened the small sounds of the motor cooling, he inspected the duffel bag again. Nestled in the bag were a bundle of tie wraps, a homemade ball gag, a black scarf suitable for blindfolding, a buck knife, and a roll of paper towels. You never knew when you’d need to wipe something up.  
Satisfied that his kit was ready, he checked the handgun in the glove box. The Cobra was right where it should be, loaded with the safety on. After a look out the windshield, he put the sunshade on the dashboard and pulled down the shades on the driver and passenger windows. With no other light sources, it was now dark enough to watch the video.

He knows that someday the Crowes will be famous, and there will be a glut of videos to choose from, but for now, his is the only one in existence. He filmed it himself at a performance in Austin. Encouraged by the intoxicated and very liberal audience, the singer had outdone himself in displays of his wicked fondness for men. Sloppy kisses where you could clearly see tongues glistening with saliva. Blatant crotch groping. Rampant fondling of all stripes.

He watched, hunched forward over his hard-on, eyes inches from the laptop screen. He didn’t hear the generator or the sounds of leaves crunching underfoot. He was completely taken by surprise by the knock on the side door.

Heart pounding, he muted the sound. “What?” he shouted.

“Highway Patrol, sir. I need to talk to you for a minute.”

“About what?”

“Open the door, please, sir.”

He slid the door open. “What can I do for you?"

The patrolman’s face was shaded by his Smoky hat. His mirrored sunglasses showed the watcher nothing he wanted to see. “We’ve received several complaints about someone camping here."

“I’m just parked.”

“But it isn’t the first time you’ve ‘parked’ here, is it?”

“Would you get to the point?”

The trooper’s demeanor stiffened. “Happy to oblige. I’m ordering you to leave now. Pack up and drive off, or I’ll arrest you.”

“I don’t believe you have any grounds to arrest me.”

“You don’t want to find out, believe me.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“Why don’t you make this easy on yourself? Turn off that piece-of-shit genny and move on down the road. There’s a legit campground just three miles that way. It ain’t expensive.” The trooper pointed.

“This used to be the land of the free,” the watcher said bitterly. “My taxes paid for this rest area.”

“You and a few hundred million other folks. I don’t want to stand here debatin’ you all day. I want to see you in the driver’s seat in five.”

“I’m busy right now. I’ll go later.”

“That’s not how it works. Come on out of there. I was going to let you drive away, but now I want to see some i.d. and proof of ownership of this van.”

“Fascist,” the watcher said under his breath as he climbed out. “Hang on. It’s in the glove box.”

The trooper followed him around the front of the van and watched as he opened the door and leaned in. When the watcher turned, he was holding the Cobra. To his surprise, the cop also had his gun in his hand.

“Put it down,” the trooper said. “Now!”

For a split-second, the watcher wavered, but the set of the trooper’s face convinced him to drop the gun. He held up his hands as he stepped away from the van.

“You could be driving down the road right now,” the cop said, as he put the handcuffs on the watcher. “The most I would’ve done was issue a citation, and you’d’ve paid a fine. Now, you’re going to jail for pulling a gun on an officer of the law. I don’t think this went quite the way you planned.”

“You’re correct. If I could take it back, I would.” He sighed. “Can I get my i.d. out of the van?”

“Where is it?” The trooper marched the man over to his cruiser.

“Under the front seat. There’s another gun under there by the way.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be booby-trapped, would it? You got a rattler in there or some such?”

“No, sir, but—"

The trooper shoved the man into the back seat and shut the door. Helplessly, the man watched as the cop walked to the van and reached for the door handle. When the handle was pulled, the small bomb exploded, blowing the door off the van. The trooper landed several feet away. He was stunned, but the door had protected him from the worst of the blast.

The man in the backseat watched the trooper lying on the ground and tried not to imagine what might happen to him if the cop was dead. Obviously, other cops would come looking for him, but how long until they found him? It was a hot day to be locked in a car with all the windows up. It was a unique quandary. If the trooper was dead, he couldn’t arrest anyone. However, if the trooper was dead, the watcher might die too. If nothing else, rescuers would have questions about why he was in the back of a patrol car in handcuffs.

It was with a peculiar blend of relief and dismay that he watched the trooper stir and eventually get to his feet. Wincing in pain, the trooper shuffle/staggered to the car and got in.  
“Asshole,” he said as he reached for the radio. “You’re goin’ away for a loooong time.” The trooper was a true prophet, but a long time was not enough time, as it turned out.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodyguard Raylan Givens is hired to protect the lead singer of Stone the Crowes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an alternate universe fic with a non-canon Tim Gutterson. I recently saw the movie EuroTrip and I really like Jacob Pitts with longer hair. I was inspired to write his character as if Cooper grew up to be Tim without serving in the military. I hope the step out of canon isn't jarring but rather fun. Thank you for reading.

Chapter One

 

Five years later….

 

Art Mullen put down his phone and looked through one of the glass walls of his office at Aegis Executive Protection Services. He spotted his top operative and waved a hand for his attention.

Raylan Givens caught movement in his peripheral vision and glanced over at his boss’s office. He nodded, rose from his desk, and walked over. Like all Aegis agents, his body was well-toned and clad in a conservative suit. His was charcoal gray with a pale blue shirt and a silvery-gray tie. He cut a classic figure with his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs. His habit of adding a Stetson and cowboy boots when he was in the field only added to the strong, silent stereotype.

“Yeah, Chief?” Raylan said as he entered the office.

“I figured it was time you got back on the horse.”

“You’ve got a job for me?” Raylan tried not to get his hopes up. It had been almost a year since he’d worked a security detail. He’d spent the time honing his skills and learning a bit about management, but it was time to get back in the field and see if he still had what it took.

“I got a call from old colleague last night. He asked for a favor, and I was inclined to help. I promised him my best man, so the job falls to you.”

“I’m ready.”

“I know you are, or we wouldn’t be talking right now.” Art cleared his throat. “You’ve handled yourself well through all of this, but it’s time to put it behind us. Way behind us.”

“So, who’s the principal?”

“This will be a new one for you. The client is a musician.”

“Country and western?” Raylan asked hopefully.

“Far from it.”

“Just tell me it ain’t death metal, please.”

Art smiled. “The video I watched on YouTube wasn’t horrible. The song actually had a melody.”

“So… rock’n’roll?”

“More or less. It’s not easy-listening, that’s for sure.”

“Go on.”

“Management for the band received a few threatening messages over the past month, but they didn’t get excited until a note was left at the singer’s front door. He’s the one being targeted, by the way.”

“When do I start?”

“You’re on the clock. I sent you a text with the name and number of the Crowes’ manage. You can liaise as soon as you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Chief. I appreciate your confidence in me.”

Art waited until Raylan left his office to mutter, “Let’s hope I’m not wrong.”

 

Break

 

Following the directions texted to him, Raylan left his car in the arena’s parking structure and knocked on an unmarked door. A woman in coveralls let him in and pointed him in the right direction. He knocked on another door, this one marked by a hand-lettered sign that read, “Mr. Duffy. Knock First. Wait for Permission to Enter.”

“Mr. Givens.” Wynn Duffy, Stone the Crowes’ manager rose from behind his desk to greet Raylan. “Sorry for the mess. This is a temporary space. Please have a seat. May I offer you anything?”

“No thanks.” Raylan sat and put his hat on his knee.

“If I may say,” Wynn said. “That’s a very good presentation.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your look. That’s a great image. i manage performers for a living and I know a good look when I see one.”

“Thanks… I guess. Before we get to it, I’d like to assure you that the principal’s safety is my only concern. I’ll do everything in power to see he isn’t harmed.”

“Well, that’s very… dedicated. I think that’s the word I’m looking for. Okay, your boss said it would be better if you heard the facts from me, so here we are.”

“Mr. Mullen doesn’t see the point in repetition.”

“Very wise.” Wynn picked up a piece of copier paper and offered it. “This is a copy of the note left at the house. The police have the original.”

Raylan took it. Someone had written a brief message that slanted diagonally across the page. _I’M COMING FOR YOU NOW_

“A friend found it on T’s doorstep,” Wynn said. “The other notes all came to the office.”

“You have copies of those?”

Wynn held out two folders, a thin one and a thick one. “The notes plus a file on Stone the Crowes personnel.”

Raylan opened the thin folder and looked at the paper on top. After reading the first paragraph, he looked up at Wynn. “Jesus,” he said succinctly.

“Yeah.” Wynn shook his head. “Whoever this asshole is, he’s one sick papaya.”

“To say the least. Has the principal seen these?”

“He insisted.” Wynn shrugged. “He read one. I think that was enough for him.”

“Well, I’m here to make sure none of those things happen.”

“I find your tone very reassuring. Let me make a call, and then 24K’s head of security will take you to your client.” 


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan meets the band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see previous chapter notes.

Two

 

Rachel Woods, head of security for 24K, looked the new guy up and down and decided he would do. He sure as hell had the right attitude, and he didn’t blink when he found out the chief security officer was a petite, young black woman. Also, he was easy on the eyes.

“Welcome aboard, Raylan,” she said briskly. “Come with me, and I’ll introduce you to the brat.”

“Uh, is that what you call sign the principal?”

“It’s what I call him. You’ll call him whatever he tells you to call him.”

“Roger that,” Raylan said. He tucked the folders under his arm having looked at the pictures and read the brief bios while he waited for Brooks.

Rachel smiled. “His radio call sign is Tigger, by the way.”

“Like Winnie-the-Pooh?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. We didn’t use a theme.”

“Thank God. I’d hate to get stuck bein’ Eyore.”

Rachel chuckled. “Your boss said you’d handled celebrities before.”

“It’s kind of our specialty at Aegis.”

“Of course. That’s why 24K agreed with my recommendation to hire your company. I meant you personally.”

“Oh, well, of course. I’ve handled politicians, movie stars, athletes.”

“Then at least you’ve got some idea what you’re getting into.” Rachel pushed through a pair of swinging doors and turned right down a hall with concrete walls. “I’m taking you in through the emergency escape route, by the way.”

Raylan paid a little more attention. He’d already been clocking doors and landmarks, but now he set himself to memorizing every detail.

Rachel raised her voice as the noise in the hall rose to construction site levels. “The stage is being set up,” she explained. She stopped at a double doorway and nodded to a beefy, red-faced man standing guard.

Raylan assessed the big man’s black, screaming skull T-shirt, patched jeans, and tattoos and deduced he was part of the crew rather than security.

“Hi, Coover,” Rachel said. “Thanks for filling in. This is Raylan. He’s on board now. You can get back to your real job.”

“Thanks,” Coover said. “I gotta get Boyd’s ax tuned up. Good to meet you, Raylan.”

Rachel gestured to Raylan to follow her through the door into the auditorium. She led him through a vast space where a crew of about twenty was working. On the far side, Rachel opened another door and Raylan followed her into another corridor. “This is the green room,” she said as she raised her hand to knock on a door.

A burly man with shoulder-length blond hair opened it. “Hey, Boss Lady! Come on in.” He turned to Raylan and looked him over very deliberately.

Raylan returned the favor. He didn’t know this man, but he knew his type. The desert camo jacket was a clue, but the jump-boots were a dead giveaway.

“Raylan Givens of Aegis Executive Protection Services meet Colton Rhodes, my second-in-command,” Rachel said.

The two nodded curtly, each acknowledging but not necessarily accepting the other’s presence. From Colt’s appearance, Raylan figured 24K didn’t have a dress code. Raylan’s appearance put Colt on the defensive, which he resented.

“What’s it like in there?” Rachel asked.

“They’re doing a little drinking, maybe a little blow, nothing off the dial. There’s a few girls.” Colt grinned. “Nobody’s naked yet. Since you’re here, mind if I head out for a smoke?”

“That’s fine.”

Colt gave her a comic salute and walked away.

Rachel and Raylan went through another door and emerged into a bacchanalian revel. The lounge was outfitted with comfortable groupings of sleek couches and low tables. At one end of the room was a buffet; at the other end was a bar. The members of the Crowes were situated about the room amid clusters of admirers.

Raylan automatically noted the positions of the players. Lead guitarist Boyd Crowder occupied a love seat next to a truly stunning blonde woman. He didn’t look quite real, more like a model who’d stepped from a cologne ad in glossy fashion magazine marketed to the Goth crowd. His black hair bristled from his well-shaped skull in artful spikes like a demon’s halo. His trim frame was clothed in an outfit that Raylan immediately classified as vampire gunslinger.

The woman was interesting as well. Her flaxen hair looked natural and her curves weren’t overblown. She had legs for days and wasn’t shy about showing them off. There was very little of her little black dress, but she managed to make it look classy. According to the file, this was Ava—one name only—and she was in charge of public relations. A wise choice, if you asked Raylan: Ava would be difficult to say no to. He noted how comfortable Boyd and Ava were with one another and then moved on.

Dewey and his cousin Danny Crowe, who’d given the band its name, were doing shots at the bar—competitively, by all appearances. A small crowd urged them on. Raylan observed for a few seconds but saw nothing to pique his interest. Dewey and Danny struck him as near-caricatures of raunchy rock stars, whisky bottles at the elbow, lines of coke on the bar, flashy women close at hand. Then he realized there was a girl on her knees in front of Dewey with her head in his lap. More embarrassed that he’d missed the action than by the act itself, he turned away.

It wasn’t much of a change. Sprawled across a love seat, lithe limbs draped over the back, long, amber-red hair flaring around his face, lips curved in a lazy smile, Stone the Crowes’ lead singer was the very definition of enticing. Raylan focused on staying detached, while acknowledging the other man’s flagrant appeal. T, as the singer was known, exuded a heady mix of sensuality, mischief, and diabolical cleverness. He was temptation on two legs, walking sin, stepping dynamite, and all the other colorful terms Raylan’s daddy had used to describe a certain kind of woman. Raylan had never thought of them as relating to a man before, but T was all that.

“Hey, T,” Rachel said.

The attractive young men and women draped around the singer looked up resentfully. The girl massaging his right foot and the boy massaging his left continued their work. T wiggled his toes happily, as he replied.

“Is it important, Ray?”

“Would I bother you otherwise?”

“Oh, you’re serious. Okay then, shoo, kids. The tongue bath is postponed.”

Reluctantly, his court shifted to the bar. Raylan kept his amusement to himself. _What a life._

Rachel sat on the love seat and motioned Raylan to a chair. “Tim,” she said. “This is Raylan Givens. He’s a former law enforcement officer who’s now the top operative at Aegis. He’s going to be keeping an eye on you until we feel the stalker threat is over.”

Tim turned from her to look at Raylan. “At least he’s a looker,” he said. “Hi. Damn glad to meet you… Rayon, was it?”

“You just behave yourself,” Rachel said. “This guy is bona fide, you hear me? Do not piss him off, T. He could break you in half.”

“Why would he want to do that?” Tim made puppy dog eyes at her.

“Because you’re you,” she retorted.

“Well… you do have a point.” Tim brightened. “Can I give him a call sign?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. You never let me have any fun.”

“Just out of curiosity,” Raylan said. “What would you call me?”

“Mine,” Tim said promptly.

“You stop it right now,” Rachel said. “Raylan is not a toy. He’s your bodyguard.”

“With a body like that— Ow!” Tim glared at Rachel. “You hit me.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there.”

The scowl morphed into a grin. “Do it again!”

“If you misbehave, I will. Now, put your shoes on. You have a sound check in five.”

“I know,” Tim said sullenly. He looked around the floor by the couch. “Hey!” he called out. “Anyone seen my boots?”

Rachel pulled them out from under the couch. “You’re welcome.”

Tim looked over at Raylan. “You ever notice how a woman can find anything? I mean, without even looking, they just know where shit is.”

“Maybe the uterus is a locating device,” Raylan said.

Tim laughed as he shoved his feet into his boots. “It wouldn’t surprise me.” He looked up and met Raylan’s gaze.

Raylan couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him so intently, with such patent and unabashed interest. Also, Raylan couldn’t seem to look away.

Tim grinned a wolfish grin, eyes gleaming in a slightly less than sane manner. “I see you,” he said.

“What does that mean?” Raylan asked, released from the spell.

“That you’ve been seen.” Tim sprang to his feet. “Come on, Rachel,” he said. “What’s taking so long? It’s time to work.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’ll be leaving you in the hands of your new minder. I have to go meet with that writer fella. Best of luck, Raylan.” She walked away, already talking into her Bluetooth headset.

Raylan looked at Tim.

Tim batted his eyes. “I’m in your hands,” he said. “I’m starting to feel like putty already.”

“There are a few things I like to get straight when I meet a new principal,” Raylan said, blocking Tim’s exit.

“Oh, yeah? That’s nice.” Tim moved around Raylan like he was made of smoke. “You coming?”

Raylan sighed. He’d known it would be complicated, but he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to guard the client against himself. However, Tigger was pushing all his buttons. At the same time.


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan gets to know T a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see notes on previous chapters.

Three

As they walked down the hall, Tim glanced over at Raylan a few times.

“You want to tell me somethin’?” Raylan asked.

“It’s just weird, that’s all. Usually me and the guys all walk together, but now, I’m gettin’ this special treatment. It feels wrong.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m not any more valuable than anyone else in this band. I don’t want you to think I’m some egomaniac.”

“You’re the only one who was directly threatened.”

“Yeah, I get that, but why not—?”

“Because it’s easier to guard one man than four, plain and simple.”

Tim was quiet for a few seconds. “Thanks for the honest answer,” he said. “Oops, that’s my phone. He dug his cell from the pocket of his skin-tight jeans and turned away from Raylan. After a few seconds, he looked over his shoulder. “I need to talk in private.” He pointed to a sign. “Mind if I go into the men’s? You can stand in front of the door.”

“Sure.” Raylan took up a post. After about ten seconds, he no longer heard Tim’s voice. “Dammit!” he said as he dashed into the bathroom.

Raylan looked around, but he knew Tim wasn’t there, just as he knew he should have checked the men’s room before Tim went in. What a great start to his new job. When he spotted the door in the opposite wall, he went through it into a parallel corridor. He turned left and moved silently, trailing a hand along the concrete. Though he had no evidence, he was sure Tim had come this way. It just felt like Tim would turn left. In another moment, he heard the faint sound of voices and slowed his steps as he came within earshot.

“I just don’t feel like it right now.”

Raylan paused. That was Tim’s unmistakable voice. He sounded a little pissed off.

“Yeah? Well, I just don’t care. Come here.”

The other voice was familiar, but Raylan couldn’t put a name to it. Taking a chance, he risked a look around the corner. He saw the burly outline of Rachel’s lieutenant, Colton Rhodes.

“You better _start_ caring,” Tim said. He tried to move around Colt, but Colt anticipated him and grabbed him by the arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Colt said, sounding more amused than angry.

“Wherever I feel like going. Get the fuck off me, man.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“Christ, how drunk was I?”

Tim pulled his arm free, but Colt wrapped him in a bear hug with his hands trapped at his sides.

Colt grinned. “Be sweet and give daddy some sugar.”

Raylan had heard more than enough. He stepped around the corner. “Let him go,” he said.

Colt focused his gaze on Raylan. “Fuck off,” he said calmly.

“Tim?” Raylan kept his eyes on Colt. “Are you happy where you are?”

“Hell no.”

“You heard him. Now, let him go,” Raylan ordered Colt.

“You do realize I’m Security, right?” Colt said.

“You do realize I don’t give a shit. I’m just here for him.” Raylan nodded at Tim. “Now, take your hands off him before I have to make you.”

“Let me think about it.” Colt smiled at Tim. “And you, keep fightin’ me. You know how much it turns me on.”

Raylan drew his gun. “I’m only gonna tell you once more to let that man go.”

“Good. You’re starting to bore me.” Colt looked into Tim’s eyes. “If you think you can play me and not take the consequences, well, you’re just stupid.” He smiled. “But you’re also smokin’ hot, so I’m gonna give you a pass this once. Tell your guard dog to back off.”

Raylan put the muzzle of his Glock against Colt’s skull. “Let… him… go.”

Colt stepped away from Tim. “Fine, but this is a big mistake. Just a lovers’ quarrel. He’ll be beggin’ me to stuff him like a turkey by midnight.”

“Unlikely,” Tim said. “Thanks, Raylan. I could’ve handled it, but I do appreciate your help.”

“What about him?” Raylan nodded at Colt.

“What _about_ him?” Tim shrugged. He turned to Colt. “Go sleep it off,” he said.

Looking slightly baffled, Colt walked away.

“You want to tell me what the hell I interrupted and why you didn’t fire him?”

“Date rape and I’m not Head of Personnel?”

Raylan frowned.

“Okay, sorry, didn’t mean to squick you with that shit about working in personnel,” Tim said. He sighed dramatically. “It’s just so predictable, you know? You let a guy fuck you once, and he thinks he owns you.”

Raylan give him a sharp look. “That true, or are you just trying to shock me?”

“Which part?”

“Are you sleeping with Colton Rhodes?”

“Once.”

“Like once upon a time or as in you only slept with him one time?”

“We all make mistakes. At least it was just the once.”

Raylan stared at Tim. “A mistake is when you forget to carry the one. You had sex with a man who’s probably homicidal.”

“You really think so?”

“Are you kidding? That’s what turns you on?”

“I like bad boys. What can I say?”

“You can tell me if you have any other secrets that are going to complicate my job.”

“That might take a while. Why don’t you have a drink with me?”

“I’m working.” Raylan took out his phone. “Rachel,” he said, when she answered. “I know we’re late. I have Tigger, and we’re on our way.” He listened for a few seconds. “Will do,” he said before he hung up.

“Is she mad?”

“I have strict orders to put you over my knee and administer a firm spanking.”

Tim’s smile was incandescent. “The evening is really starting to look up,” he said.

“Do you ever give it a rest?”

“What?”

Raylan sighed. “Look, I’m going to deliver you to the dressing room so you can get ready for the show. End of story.”

“You personal protection types are never any fun.”

“I’m plenty fun, just not while I’m on the clock.”

“Glad to hear you like a little fun.” Tim’s tone was light-years beyond anything so subtle as insinuation.

Raylan shook his head. “Are you really gay or just fucking with me?”

“You may have a hard time with this, cowboy, but yeah, I’m really gay.”

“I thought gay men were supposed to have good taste.”

“Oh, come on, man. You can’t judge me by Colt. I was drunk, and he was there, you know?”

Raylan shook his head again. “The way you talk….”

“What?”

Raylan stopped walking and so did Tim. “You’re careless with yourself.”

Tim put his hands behind his ears and cupped them. “Huh?”

“Cute. Let’s go, or you’re going to be late. I don’t need to look bad on my first day.”

“You think you could look bad? Now _that’s_ cute.”

“Okay. Listen up. Don’t ever give me the slip again. I want to hear you promise.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim looked into Raylan’s eyes. Slowly, his smirk dissolved. “Okay.”

“All right then. Maybe I’ll be able to keep you alive after all.”

Raylan opened the door that led to the backstage area and released a burst of light and sound. He stood aside, and Tim hurried into the maelstrom and was absorbed. Rachel gave Raylan a nod from the other side of the space, and he relaxed a little.


	5. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan voices a concern to Rachel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please notes on previous chapters.

Four

 

While the musicians were on stage, Raylan went to talk to Rachel. “I need a minute please,” he said.

Rachel took the earpiece from her ear. “Make it fast.”

“We have a problem.”

“You’re kidding.”

“A specific problem.”

“Go on.”

“Are you aware that Tigger slept with Colt? And will most likely do it again?”

“It doesn’t surprise me. T is always looking for a thrill and Colt has that armed and dangerous mystique.”

“You don’t see the problem?”

“Not unless you’re a homophobe.”

“I’m not, but Colt isn’t the kind of man you should fuck around with. He really is dangerous.”

“I hope so. That’s why I hired him.”

“Then I think it would be a real good idea if you counseled the principal to stop putting his hand on the stove.”

“I could do that, in fact, I have done that. Care to guess how many fucks T gave?”

“Less than zero?”

“That’s a real good guess.” Rachel shook her head. “Look, I know he makes it hard. He just pushes and pushes. I’ve been watching over him for almost two years now, and I swear, he’s a fucking test, but… he’s worth it.”

“So, your advice to me is—”

“Suck it up, buttercup.”

Raylan smiled. “It sounds so nice the way you say it.”

“The bottom line is that we’re babysitting a man who gets paid a crap-ton of money to behave like a spoiled brat. The more outrageous he is, the more the fans love him. And the more money 24K makes. So, you can see why his borderline behavior has been encouraged rather than treated.”

“And the gay thing is no problem?”

“Are you kidding? T is practically an icon of the equality movement. The fact that he’s out and proud makes the fans love him even more. His rebel status is pure gold. We’ve even got this guy who’s writing a book about him.”

“I probably should’ve known that.”

“You’re doing fine. Better than most.” Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “T actually likes you.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Rachel chuckled. “Look, he’s going to keep coming as long as you keep reacting.”

“I usually have better control.”

“Let me know if you need a break from him.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“Really?” Rachel tilted her head to the side. “Just because he’s messing with you doesn’t mean he doesn’t find you attractive. You’re definitely his type. Moody, dangerous, handsome—”

“I’m glad we had this talk.”

Rachel chuckled again. “Like I said, you’re doing fine.” Her voice was loud in the sudden silence. “Sound check’s over. Go collect him, feed him, and don’t let him out of your sight until it’s time to get ready for the show.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got both eyes on him.”

“Excellent.” Rachel moved away, her mind already on another problem of logistics.

Raylan walked out of the wings and saw that the musicians were having a discussion. Not wanting to interrupt, he waited out of earshot for Tim to notice him. Raised voices put him on alert, but he reminded himself it was probably just a disagreement about a wrong note or something. These men were friends and shared the bond of performing together. He didn’t sense impending violence, just annoyance and frustration.

“I don’t give a rusty fuck!” Tim shouted.

Dewey turned abruptly and walked over to his drum kit, muttering angrily. His cousin Danny followed him. Tim opened his mouth to call after Dewey, but Boyd grabbed him by the shoulders and leaned to rest his forehead against Tim’s. As he spoke softly, Boyd gently massaged his way up to Tim’s neck with his fingertips. He smiled and kept smiling until Tim smiled back.

Raylan cleared his throat. “Sorry to break in, but if you want to eat before the show, you need to get moving. Ms. Woods has informed me the buffet is on in the green room.”  
“Oh man, I hope it ain’t Kentucky Fried Chicken again,” Dewey said as he walked past Raylan. “That chicken is a lie.”

“I know that’s right, Dewey,” Danny concurred.

Tim walked over to Raylan with Boyd at his side. “Any law against Boyd walking with us?”

“As long as he stays to my left, I got no problem with it.”

Boyd raised his hands. “I won’t hinder your pull, cowboy.”

“You like the hat, do you?” Raylan said.

Boyd smiled. “Who wouldn’t?”

“If you’re done flirtin’, I’m hungry,” Tim said.

“Let’s find something to put in your mouth.” Boyd put his arm around Tim, and they walked away leaving Raylan to catch up.

After a meal catered by a barbecue chain, Boyd declared he needed a nap.

“I could join you.” Tim leered broadly at Boyd, but the effect wasn’t as comical as he intended.

“That does sound nice,” Boyd replied. “But we both know how it ends up, and it ain’t good for either of us.”

“I was joking.”

“It’s a little hard to tell with you, son.” Boyd kissed Tim’s cheek and strolled away.

“Fair enough,” Tim said to Boyd’s back. He looked speculatively at Raylan. “Are you a cuddler?”

“Am I filling out a questionnaire in Cosmopolitan?”

Tim smiled. “No, but you’re filling out those jeans splendidly.”

“Are you planning on resting up or is there somewhere I can escort you?” Raylan said in a no-nonsense voice.

“What do you want to do?”

“I— uh…. Sorry, I didn’t expect the question. I’d just like to get you to the stage in one piece.”

“Jeez, you’re boring. When I looked you up online, I thought you were going to be fun.”

“What did you find online that led you to believe I’m fun?”

“The way you pulled a _High Noon_ on that drug-dealer in Florida.”

“That was _not_ fun.”

“I saw that phone vid posted online. Man, you were cool.”

“Killin’ somebody ain’t cool.”

“No. No, of course not,” Tim said. “But they way you did it… _that_ was cool.”

Raylan sighed. Rachel was right. This was babysitting. “Let’s go,” he said, in a tone that didn’t leave any options. “You can be obnoxious in the dressing room.”

“Funny story about obnoxious. Up until the 17th Century, it meant vulnerable. Now it means dangerous.”

“No, it means nasty, spoiled, and annoying.”

“Tell me what you really think of me.”

Raylan opened the door and held it for Tim to walk through. After he radioed Rachel to let her know Tigger was on the move, they left the green room area. As they passed the backstage door, it opened, and Colt came out.

“Hey,” Colt said. “Either of you got a light?”

“Nope,” Raylan said.

Tim patted his jeans pockets and the breast pocket of his unbuttoned shirt. Colt stepped forward as though to help frisk Tim, but Raylan moved to block him.

“We’re on our way somewhere,” Raylan said. “And it seems to me that a man who carries tobacco and no fire might be sendin’ himself a message.”

Tim bit his bottom lip to hold in a laugh and then let it go anyway.

“You’re too smart for me,” Colt said. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Let’s go,” Tim said to Raylan. “I’m tired of waiting on you, and Ellen May’s probably tired of waiting on me.”

Colt watched Tim and Raylan walk away before he went back through the door that led to the stage.


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see notes on previous chapters.

Five

 

Raylan responded to Rachel’s radio call and met her outside the dressing room. The guy with her was obviously the writer she’d mentioned earlier. He didn’t look like a bookworm, but his butterfly bowtie, seersucker jacket, and glasses with red frames marked him as being in a profession where he could dress as he pleased. Despite the slightly odd clothing, the first thing Raylan noticed was his eyes. They were as blue and bright as gas flames.

“Excuse me.” Ava walked around Rachel. “Emergency.”

“Whoa,” Raylan said as she put a hand on the door. “What emergency?”

“Ellen May is throwing up her toenails, and T still needs his hair and makeup done,” she said. “Guess who got elected to fill in?” Ava paused. “Unless you want to do it?”

“Uh, no.” Raylan opened the door for her. As he closed it, he watched Tim greet Ava with a warm hug before she opened a makeup case.

Rachel cleared her throat. “Raylan, this is Bobby Quarles. He’s the author who’s writing a book about the Crowes.”

Quarles stuck out his hand and Raylan took it. “Yes, sir, I am writing a book about this band. In years to come, they’ll be remembered as groundbreakers.”

“Is that right?” Raylan smiled. “I’d love to read it when it’s published.”

Quarles whipped out a small notebook. “Your address?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’d be happy to send you one of my author copies.” Quarles smiled at Raylan. “Gratis, of course.”

“That’s very nice of you. Will there be pictures?”

Quarles looked unsure how to react to this question. Rachel frowned at Raylan.

“Let’s meet T,” she said.

Raylan opened the door again and followed Rachel and Quarles into the dressing room.

Ava sat straddling Tim as she applied eyeliner. Tim focused on Quarles. “The fuck is this?”

“This is Bobby Quarles, the writer,” Rachel said.

Quarles stepped forward and offered his hand. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m a great admirer, very great. You have one of the best voices in rock’n’roll.”

“I see you’ve done your homework,” Tim drawled.

“Indeed, I have. If I may….” Quarles reached into a pocket. “I had this made as a token of appreciation. I’d be honored if you’d accept it.”

Tim held out his hand and took the small metal object. He held it up to admire the pewter and black enamel crow.

“If you keep moving, you’re going to look like a raccoon,” Ava warned him.

“It’s an earring,” Quarles said. “May I?”

To Ava’s annoyance, Tim removed the stud in his right ear and replaced it with the crow.

“I’m hoping to do several in-depth interviews as I travel with you on tour,” Quarles said.

“You know who loves to talk about himself?” Tim said. “Boyd. You should talk to Boyd.”

Quarles glanced at Boyd. “Of course, I’ll be talking to everyone, but you can’t deny that you’re the heart of the band.”

“I can deny anything I damn well— Ow!” Tim looked up at Ava.

“Not my fault,” she said callously. “I told you not to move.”

“You damn near put my fuckin’ eye out.”

“Are you going to live?” she asked with a distinct lack of sympathy.

“Yeah, but my depth perception is for shit now. What if I fall off the stage?”

“You’d never hit the floor,” Rachel said. “Quit sassin’ Ava and let her finish your makeup. You do want the people in the back to be able to see your face, don’t you?”

Tim met her gaze. “I want the people in the back to be able to hear my voice. You all are the ones who hung this phony sex symbol thing around my neck.”

“You’re hot. Deal with it,” Ava said. She kissed the end of his nose before she stood up. She took a brush from her purse and passed it through Tim’s thick, russet hair. She pushed it back from his face with her fingers and studied his features for a few moments. “Okay, now shake your head like you’re listening to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’”

Tim obligingly flung his head around like he was being attacked by bees. Ava studied the result and nodded.

“Perfect. You look like you just got out of bed.”

Raylan looked away from the sight of Tim with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and just-been-fucked hair. He glanced at Quarles who was looking at Tim with something between lust and despair. Raylan kind of knew how he felt. Kind of. Though Raylan’s inappropriate feelings were not rooted in fan worship, it couldn’t be denied that cocky, insolent, sexy Tim called up the ghosts Raylan had thought he’d laid to rest.

“Great,” Tim said. “Now, if it isn’t too much to ask, can we clear the room so I can clear my head before the show? Boyd and Raylan can stay.”

“Everyone else is finished with makeup,” Rachel said. “I’ll take Mr. Quarles backstage.”

“You’re a peach,” Tim said.

After everyone was gone, Tim poured a drink from a bottle of bourbon on the makeup table. “I don’t suppose you drink on duty?” he asked Raylan as he poured one for Boyd.

“Nope.” Raylan looked around the room while Tim sipped his drink.

“What do you think of that Quarles guy?”

Raylan shook his head. “I don’t.”

Tim smiled and then looked at the door as it opened.

Coover Bennett stuck his head in. “Mic check?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m good.” He glanced at Raylan. “I think I’ll just stay here until it’s time.”

Coover looked baffled. “But… you always do your own mic check. Always.”

“I think I’d just as soon have another drink. For my nerves.”

Coover’s bewilderment deepened. “What nerves?”

Boyd laughed as he got to his feet. “I’ll come with you,” he told Coover. “I need to look at that Strat. I feel like she’s developing a bow.” He stopped to tousle Tim’s hair as he passed by.

Tim grabbed Boyd’s hand and kissed it. “See you there,” he said.

Boyd smiled, curled his fingers into a fist for Tim to bump, and then followed Coover’s leviathan bulk out the door.

Tim turned his gaze on Raylan. “Alone at last,” he drawled.

Raylan managed to keep his eyes from rolling. “I realize your fans think you’re cute, but I’m not as charmed by bad behavior as the average teenager.”

“And yet you chose this line of work.”

Raylan started to retort but smiled instead. “You have a point.”

“Even though I’m blunt?”

“Lord,” Raylan said. “Is there no end to the ways in which you are irritating?”

“Not that anyone’s noticed. What’s bothering you now?”

“That whole clever thing.”

“You don’t like me being clever?”

“No.” Raylan smiled again. “It makes me feel slow.”

“Then my work here is done.” Tim swallowed the last of the whisky in his glass and got to his feet. “I think I will do a mic check, after all. Why mess with success?”

Raylan checked the area outside the door and then waved Tim through. He lingered for just a moment to admire Tim’s back view in the black glove-leather jeans.

Tim looked over his shoulder, saw the direction of Raylan’s gaze, and smirked at him. “Does it meet with your approval?”

“And then some,” Raylan answered honestly. “You conceited pervert.”

Tim laughed. “Thank you,” he said.

Coover was guarding the stage door and stepped forward to open it for Tim and Raylan. The wail of an electric guitar burst through the doorway. Tim grinned and hurried toward the stage. Raylan kept pace with him.

Rachel and Quarles were standing in the wings watching Boyd shred some lightning-fast arpeggios. Danny was fiddling with some settings on his array of keyboards, and Dewey was sitting in one of the seats about five rows back smoking a joint.

Rachel beamed at Tim. “Jesus take the wheel! You are going to break some hearts tonight.”

“Why, thank you kindly, ma’am.” Tim beamed a smile at her.

Rachel opened his embroidered vest and revealed the tattoo on his bare chest: the silhouette of a crow with wings spread. “That’s better.”

On the stage, roadie Dickie Bennett approached Tim’s microphone. “Test,” he said. “Test, one, two.” He reached up to adjust the mic down a bit. As his fingers touched the metal stand, a tremendous jolt of electricity shot through him. Unable to let go, he shook violently.

“Jesus!” Tim started forward with everyone else, but Raylan held him back. “Let me go.”

Raylan met Tim’s eyes. “Stop fighting me and do as I tell you,” he said calmly. Holding onto Tim’s elbow, he hustled him through a door and down a narrow hall lined with stacked chairs. He was grateful for the principal’s abrupt capitulation, but he would have thrown Tim over his shoulder and carried him out if he’d had to.

“What are we doing?” Tim asked.

“Not now.” Raylan contacted Rachel, call sign Nike, and informed her of Tigger’s whereabouts. She approved his actions and told him to keep in touch. She also informed him an ambulance was on the way for Dickie, and she passed on a message for Tigger. Raylan looked over at Tim. “Mr. Duffy wants to know if you want to cancel the concert. That would be my recommendation for what it’s worth.”

“Is Dickie going to be okay?”

“Most probably. But whoever booby-trapped the microphone might have more surprises for us.”

“Wait. What?” Tim stopped walking.

“Did you think it was an accident?”

“Well… yeah. What else?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong. Coover said you always do your own mic check.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, someone tried to electrocute you. I’d bet my reputation on it.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

Raylan nodded.

“Okay then. What do you want me to do?”

“Cancel the concert.”

“Done.” Tim chewed his lower lip. “I’m not happy about it though. People have been waiting in line all day.”

“You’ll find a way to make it up to them. I have faith in you.”

“You do?”

Raylan smiled. “No, but you’re bein’ so good, I thought you deserved a warm fuzzy.”

“Aw, fuck you, man. That was low.”

“I’m just gettin’ started.” Raylan took out his phone and dialed a number. “Art, I’m gonna need a couple of things,” he said.


	7. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stone the Crowes are taken to a safe house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see notes on previous chapters.

“This way.” Raylan physically guided Tim down the corridor, keeping his hold on his upper arm with his left hand. “The next door leads outside.”

“Where are we—?”

“Not now.” Raylan drew his gun, opened the door, and stepped out. He didn’t see anyone, but the row of dumpsters provided excellent cover. After a few seconds passed in peace, he reached back in the door and pulled Tim out by his wrist. “Stay in my shadow,” he said as he started across the paved area, gun pointed in the direction of the dumpsters.

“This is really—”

“Hush.”

Keeping his left hand on Tim’s wrist, Raylan led him around the back wall of the arena to a staff parking lot.

“Are we stealing a car?” Tim eyed the gleaming, black Town Car they were approaching.

“No, this is my car.”

“Are you undercover as a pimp?”

“Funny. Get in.”

“Where are we going?” Tim asked again.

“A safe house.”

“Cool.” Tim’s head whipped around as they passed a Dairy Queen. “Can we stop for ice cream?”

“Yes, we can… but don’t tell Ms. Brooks.”

 

Break

 

Forty minutes later, Rachel contacted Raylan from the safe house. “We’re here,” she said. “Where the hell are you?”

“Look to your left.”

Rachel turned and saw a Lincoln Town Car coming toward her on the gravel drive. “All right then.” She broke the connection and walked over to the car. “Are you okay?” she asked as Tim climbed out the passenger side.

“I’m fine. It was kind of exciting.”

“I doubt Dickie thought so,” Raylan said.

“Right. I’m a selfish prick,” Tim said. “I forgot for a minute.”

“You left out self-enchanted,” Rachel said.

“Damn. Can’t I get any slack here?”

“No.” Raylan locked his car. “Let’s get inside.” He glanced at Rachel. “Did you just get here?”

“About three minutes ago. The rest of the guys are inside with Colt and Coover. Nice place, by the way. Does Aegis own it?”

“No, it belongs to a long-time client who’s out of the country.”

“Any update on Dickie?” Tim asked. He walked past Raylan into the foyer, stopped, looked up at the fourteen-foot ceiling and down at the fountain. “This’ll work,” he said.

Boyd sprang into sight and waved a bottle at Tim. “Pappy!” he called out.

“Shit!” Raylan put a hand on his gun. “Boyd, put down the bourbon and step away.”

“Problem?” Rachel asked.

“Uh, yeah, that is a very, very expensive bottle of booze.”

“We’re good for it,” Rachel said. “Crack it, Boyd.” She glanced at Raylan. “They need to let off some steam, and I’m going to let them. Objections?”

“No, ma’am. If I can ride herd on the winning University if Miami football team, I think I can handle four cases of arrested development.”

“Good. What do you think about the mic?”

“Sabotage.”

“You’re right.” Rachel called over to Boyd and Tim. “Dickie’s going to be okay. He’s got some burns, and they want to keep him overnight to watch him for seizures, but he’ll be fine.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Boyd tangled his fingers in Tim’s hair, pulled his head back, and upended the bottle.

Raylan winced as Pappy Van Winkle’s finest splashed Tim’s face. Tim shut his eyes and opened his mouth. Raylan looked away from the open mouth a little too late but fixed the problem by buttoning his long jacket. He was starting to worry that he didn’t have as good a grip on this thing as he’d thought. God knew, he was strong-willed, but Tim was damn near irresistible.

Rachel cleared her throat. “T? Boyd? We’re all going upstairs now and pick out rooms, so we don’t have any confusion later. I don’t want to hear any bitching. Disputes will be settled by Mr. Givens.” She patted Raylan’s arm. “Bring them back down when you’re done. I’ll arrange for a food delivery.”

“That’s been seen to,” Raylan said. “Check the kitchen.”

“Excellent. Then I’m going to put my feet up and have a cigar until you get back.”

“People hate you, don’t they?”

“Don’t be silly. I’m universally beloved. Go on now.”

 

Break

 

Dewey and Danny elected to share a room with two queen-sized beds. Boyd took a smaller room with a view of the back deck and the pool.

“This is our room,” Raylan said, nudging Tim toward the door at the end of the wing.

Tim opened the door and found a mini-apartment with its own kitchen on the right and a large bathroom on the left. The open floor plan had a common space in the middle with floor-to-ceiling windows. On either side were two bedroom areas delineated by rice paper screens. Tim threw his overnight bag on the kitchen counter and started opening cabinets. He looked in the refrigerator before he turned to Raylan.

“I’m impressed. Is there a bar?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Feel free to explore.”

Tim was already halfway across the room. He leaped into the retro pit-grouping and bounded from one sofa to the other. He landed lightly on the carpet and stood a moment looking at one of the beds before bounding back across the living room.

Raylan watched in amusement. “Are you hungry?”

“I’d love a drink.” Tim came back to the living room.

“You reek of whisky. Maybe you should change your shirt and wash your face.”

“Maybe you should lick it off.”

Raylan put his hands on his hips. “I suppose I could do that, but then you wouldn’t respect me.”

“Who says I respect you?” Tim paused. “Just kidding. I respect the fact that you’re here to keep me safe, and I’m sorry if my lack of patience with being babysat led me to be rude to you.”

“Hold on. Back it up. Did you just… _apologize_ to me?”

“Sounded like it. I’m as surprised as you are.” Tim grinned. “And yes, I’d like some food before I binge drink.”

Raylan took Tim back downstairs to the master kitchen. The rest of the band plus the security team were already there. A variety of dishes were laid out on the long table with several open bottles of wine. Raylan and Tim joined the group filling their plates. Boyd patted the seat next to him and Tim sat down. Raylan sat directly across from Tim. A few seconds later, Colt sat down on Tim’s other side.

“If you don’t want to be alone, I’m volunteering to sleep with you,” Colt told Tim.

“Knock it off,” Raylan said.

“Oh, that’s right,” Colt said. “That’s your job now.” He gave Raylan an insolent smile.

Raylan put his fork down. “I’m goin’ to be straight with you. If I was in charge, you’d be gone.”

“For what? A little slap-and-tickle?”

“Actually, you look good for sabotaging that microphone.”

“Fuck you!” Colt jumped to his feet. His chair hit the floor behind him.

“Easy, boys,” Rachel said. “That’s a strong accusation, Raylan.”

“He was in the area and he had a motive.”

“Okay.” Rachel looked at Colt. “Well?”

“Of course, I was in the area. I was checking the security. As for a motive… what motive?”

“You weren’t detailed to check security around the stage,” Rachel said. “I sent Doyle to do that.” She turned to Raylan again and raised an eyebrow.

Raylan sighed. “It’s the matter I discussed with you in private.”

Rachel nodded her understanding. “I get why you’re concerned, but I don’t see it that way. Colt may have had the opportunity, but it’s just not his style. If he had a beef with someone, he’d confront them, not set a booby-trap.”

“I think he might be just smart enough to figure that’s how you’d think,” Raylan said. “But if you trust him, fine. You’re the boss.”

“Colt,” Rachel said. “You’re on sentry until further notice. This is not a punishment. I just want some separation here, okay?”

“Suits me,” Colt said. “At least I can smoke all I want.”


	8. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling in at the safe house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see previous chapters for notes.

Chapter Seven

While Tim played a round of blind man’s bluff poker with his band mates, Rachel took Raylan aside, but not so far that he couldn’t see the principal.

“Are you good with my decision?” she asked.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the boss.”

“So, no static from you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“All right,” she said softly. “Just so you know, it wasn’t an easy turning Tigger over to you. I’ve looked after that boy for next to two years, and I happen to think I was doing a good job.”

Raylan held up his hands. “Hey, we’re both following orders here, and for the record, how were you supposed to guard against someone sending letters?”

Satisfied with his answer, she lowered her guard a little. “I like you, Raylan. You’re good with T, and he could use someone… _solid_ in his life right now.”

“He’s got you.”

She smiled. “Thanks, but right now, he needs a gunslinger not a sheriff.”

“I won’t let anything happen to him.”

“I believe you.” Rachel cleared her throat. “You don’t have any qualms about spending the night in close quarters?”

“I believe I can defend my honor if called upon to do so.”

Rachel chuckled. “I hear you. I’ll stop micro-managing now.” She looked over at the musicians. “Hey, rock stars! You want to go to bed and wake up rested and healthy? Or are you going to stay up all night drinking, taking drugs, and having sex?”

“The second one,” Dewey said.

Boyd looked around. “Who you gonna have sex with Dewey?”

“Are you tellin’ me none of the girls come with us?” Dewey shook his head.

“I’m afraid we only brought essential personnel,” Rachel said. “It’s just for one night, Dewey.”

“Can we call for hookers?”

“No,” she said flatly. “Anything else?”

“This sucks.” Dewey grabbed a bottle of bourbon and got to his feet. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be takin’ a bath.”

“We’ll try not to need you,” Boyd said.

Dewey was at the stairs and shot Boyd a double bird without turning around. Boyd smiled, peeled the card off his forehead, and tossed it on the coffee table. He crooked his finger at Tim and held his arms open. Tim moved to the couch and leaned against Boyd’s chest. Boyd wrapped his arms around Tim and rested his cheek on top of Tim’s head. Looking content as a cat on a sunny window ledge, Tim closed his eyes and all but purred.

“Lord, I can’t be in the room when they’re in the mood to cuddle,” Rachel said to Raylan. “The pheromones are enough to get you high. You good?”

“Absolutely. I’ll get him up to bed when he’s ready to go. You get some rest.”

“Thanks. I could use three- or four-hours’ sleep.”

“Go on then. I got this.” Raylan settled himself in a comfortable chair and sipped a shot of Pappy.

Boyd cradled Tim to his chest, stroking his hair soothingly. Raylan kept his eyes elsewhere, but it did no good. He still felt a warm stirring in his crotch. He eased out of the chair and went into the kitchen. After rinsing his glass and setting it in the sink, he glanced into the common area.

Tim raised his head and met Boyd’s eyes, offered his mouth, and Boyd took it. Raylan looked away from the deep, wet kiss that seemed like it would never end, but he couldn’t help stealing little peeks. He noticed that for the most part, Boyd kept his hands to himself, beyond some back-rubbing and hair-stroking. Tim’s hands were everywhere, but Boyd clearly didn’t mind, until Tim touched his crotch.

“Hold up,” Boyd said softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Tim leaned on Boyd as they went up the stairs with Raylan trailing them.

“Go on,” Boyd said, as he opened the bedroom door and shoved Tim inside.

Tim went without protest, looking half-asleep already.

“My work here is done,” Boyd said with a wry smile. “You’re welcome.”

Raylan frowned. “I don’t follow you.”

“Huh. And here I thought you might appreciate me chillin’ T out for you.”

“Is that what you were doing?”

“Easy, cowboy, or I might convince myself you’re jealous.”

Raylan snorted.

“I’m just havin’ some fun with you,” Boyd said.

“You wouldn’t be from Kentucky, would you?”

“Why, yes I am. Let me guess; my big accent gave me away.”

“Only because I’m a Kentucky boy.”

“Is that right?” Boyd looked delighted. “Dewey and them are from Kentucky too. Tim’s the odd man out. He’s from Virginia.”

Raylan nodded. “Most likely a government agent then.”

Boyd laughed. “Well, now I truly believe you’re from Kentucky. You lost your accent though.”

“I worked hard on that.”

“Why? What are you ashamed of?”

“Everything.”

Boyd laughed again. “Wouldn’t be funny if we went to the same high school or some such?”

“I’m thirty-three.”

“I just turned thirty-one. We could have been in school together. I’m from Harlan County.”

“That’s tough.”

“No shit. I spent one year diggin’ coal and that was more than enough. I knew I had to find a way out, or I was goin’ to die.” Boyd smiled. “I heard Dewey and Danny playin’ in a blues club in Louisville with a fella whose name I do not recall. When they started talkin’, I knew they was Harlan County boys, so I introduced myself, told them I played guitar. A few days later, I was in the band.”

“You’re good,” Raylan said candidly.

“Why, thank you. Much appreciated.” Boyd glanced through the open doorway. “I don’t really understand everything that’s goin’ on, but I am glad you’re here to look out for him.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I believe you.” Boyd paused. “He’s…. Shit, I ain’t got the words, but he’s special, you know?”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“So, you understand why I give him leeway I might not grant to another person?”

“That’s real big of you.”

Boyd’s smile was on the sly side. “So, you do like him.”

“Yes, I like him. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Play it cool.” Boyd shrugged. “It ain’t nothin’ to me, but I can see his effect on you.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“It’s okay, man. We all non-judgmental here.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Boyd laughed again. “I’m goin’ to bed. Give Baby T a good night kiss for me.”

“Good night,” Raylan said firmly and closed the door on Boyd.

When Raylan turned, he saw that Tim was already in bed with his eyes closed. The singer looked even younger and more vulnerable as humans do when they’re asleep. Raylan went over and looked around a bit to assure himself the principal was safe and comfortable, at least, that’s what he told himself.

Tim opened his eyes. “Is Boyd gone?”

“Yep.”

“He’s such a poser.”

“Yep.”

A drowsy smile curved Tim’s lips. “But he’s a real good kisser.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t.” Tim punched his pillow. “I can’t believe we had to cancel a show. I don’t know what to do with all this energy.”

“I guess Boyd should’ve finished what he started.” Raylan regretted the words as soon as they fell out of his mouth. “Sorry. That was—”

“Snide? Condescending? In bad taste?”

“Or all of the above.” Raylan sighed. “I said sorry.”

Tim chuckled softly.

“What’s funny?” Raylan asked.

“The fact that I’m offended even though I agree with you. Boyd should have finished what he started. He won’t though.” Tim sighed.

Raylan reminded himself he was a guy, and guys talked about sex all the time. It didn’t help. “That sounds kind of personal.”

“Oh shit, are you a prude, Raylan?”

“A little bit, yeah, but I’m also a professional. You talk about whatever you want to talk about, and I will listen.”

“Is this some kind of trap?”

“Nope.”

Tim yawned and settled deeper into the mattress. “Okay, then. Good night, Raylan.”

“Sleep well.” Raylan checked the doors and windows before he took off his jacket and boots. He set his phone to wake him in three hours and then made himself comfortable on one of the pit group couches. He watched Tim until he drifted into sleep.


	9. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A false alarm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see notes on first chapter.

Raylan woke knowing something was wrong. He glanced at his phone, but it wasn’t on the table where he’d set it. His gaze went to Tim’s bed. _No Tim._

Raylan heard a noise and unholstered his gun as he moved toward the French doors to the deck. He heard the sound again and saw furtive movement in the dark beyond the glass. He threw the door open.

“Freeze,” he said loudly, pointing his gun at a bulky shape that appeared to be climbing over the railing.

“Don’t shoot,” Colt said as Raylan flipped the deck lights on.

Tim blinked owlishly at Raylan from the circle of Colt’s arms. He was sitting on the top rail with Colt between his thighs. His skin was flushed, and his lips looked swollen.

“Dammit, Tim,” Raylan said. “Did you take my phone?”

“If I hadn’t, it would’ve woke you up,” Tim said reasonably.

Raylan gave him a hard look. “I want you back inside now.”

“Aw, come on,” Colt said. “We were just gettin’ to the good part.”

“I wasn’t talkin’ to you,” Raylan said. “You might be the worst bodyguard I ever saw.”

“I’m a little hurt.” Colt looked at Tim and giggled.

The sound made the hairs stand up on the back of Raylan’s neck. “Tim,” he said.

“No one wants me to have any fun.” Tim pushed Colt away and slid down from the rail.

“You’re goin’?” Colt asked in disbelief.

Tim shrugged “We’re busted.”

“Hey, Captain Cockblock.” Colt addressed Raylan. “Any chance you’d let me and my blue balls come inside?”

“Nope.” Raylan nudged Tim toward the French doors with a hand on the small of his back. “Good night, Colt.”

Colt gave Raylan a look that said they had unfinished business before he strolled off the deck to the yard. A lighter flared and then he was lost to sight.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Raylan said the instant he and Tim were alone.

“No, just horny.”

“Oh, for the love of God, just drop it.”

“Drop what? My tighty-whities?”

“I’m officially over it, okay, so listen carefully.”

Tim made a production out of sitting and giving Raylan his attention.

“Look, I get that you’re rebel, okay? You’re a very naughty boy. You don’t need to beat that drum any harder with me. So, I’d appreciate if you’d quit.”

“I hate to break it to you, but this is me.”

“Like hell. There’s a lot more to you than a permanently horny juvenile delinquent.”

“No, there really isn’t. I quit school as soon as they’d let me. I’m dumb as two boxes of rocks. I only have one redeeming value and that’s my voice. You don’t know me, so please don’t judge me for the way I cope, okay?”

“It just pisses me off to see you give yourself away like you do.”

Tim raised his eyebrows.

“You’re Belgian chocolate but you treat yourself like a bag of M&Ms.”

“That’s pure poetry.” Tim fluttered his eyelashes at Raylan.

“I should never have opened my mouth.” Raylan shook his head. Here he was, crossing the line again. He was only responsible for the principal’s physical well-being, not his mental health.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t like talking about myself as much as Boyd does, but I don’t mind it.” Tim smiled. “Come on. Have that drink with me. Neither of us is going to sleep.”

Raylan poured two drinks and sat across the coffee table from Tim.

“Plenty of room over here,” Tim said as he took his glass from Raylan.

“I’m fine right where I am.” Raylan sipped the fine whisky. “So, what’s the deal with you and Boyd?”

“That’s so fuckin’ complicated, I’m not sure I can explain. The easy answer is that he knows how I feel about him, and he indulges me… to a point.”

“You’ve got a crush on Boyd?”

Tim met Raylan’s eyes. “I want to fuck Boyd.”

Raylan inhaled a little alcohol and coughed.

“From the second I laid eyes on him shredding that shitty Scorpions song in that shitty dive, I wanted to just grab him and—” Tim smirked. “I’ll censor the rest of that statement. It’s not like I’m madly in love with him or anything like that. He’s just so sexy when he plays guitar. Swear to God, someday I’ll lose control and do him right on stage.”

Raylan chuckled. “I bet you’d sell out your next show.”

“Probably.” Tim sipped his whisky.

“Since we’re bein’ so open and all, can you explain Colt to me? Because I’m bein’ serious when I say that he worries me.”

“Colt wouldn’t hurt me.” Tim smiled. “Unless I asked him to.”

Raylan nodded at the finger-shaped bruises on Tim’s upper arm. “You ask him to do that?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah, I asked for it.”

Raylan nodded as though he’d just had a revelation. “You provoked him into gettin’ rough with you. Is that what you’re tellin’ me?”

“It sounds so sleazy the way you say it.” Tim smiled. “Could you say it again but slower?”

“I see Tigger is back.” Raylan finished his whisky and set the glass down. “You promised me you wouldn’t give me the slip again.”

“Dude, I was on the deck, like twenty feet away,” Tim protested.

“You were out of my sight, and by the way, where’s my phone?”

“Under your pillow.” Tim sucked in his lower lip. “Um, are you going to tell Rachel about this?”

“Maybe a few years from now, it might make for a humorous anecdote, but for now, I’d rather not let people know I was made a fool of.”

“That wasn’t the intention. I just wanted to get a little.”

“I suggest you get a bottle of lotion and give yourself a hand.” Raylan stood. “Good night.”

“I hate sleeping alone.”

“That really sucks for you.” Raylan walked to the other side of the apartment.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“No, you cannot.”

“What are you afraid will happen?”

“I’m pretty sure I know what will happen, and I ain’t takin’ the chance. Good night.”

“So, you _are_ scared.”

“Yes, I am, and don’t try psychology on me. I’m immune.”

“Just answer one question.”

“Will you go to sleep?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Raylan sighed. “Go ahead.”

“Do I have any chance with you at all?”

“What?”

“Would you ever sleep with me and under what circumstances?”

“No.”

“Not under any circumstances?”

“I meant, no, I’m not answerin’ that question tonight. Now go to bed, or I’ll give you that spanking I owe you. Shit.” Raylan slapped his forehead. “That was the wrong thing to say.”

Tim grinned like a hungry, somewhat lunatic wolf with a sense of humor. “I’ll cut you a little slack for bein’ so human, if only for a few minutes.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Raylan smiled before he turned off the light.


	10. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some ground rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see first chapter for notes.

The next morning, Raylan opened the door of the apartment and found Colt standing there.

“Mornin’.” Colt smiled and lunged at the same time. He pinned Raylan against the door with his superior weight. “If you ever come between me and a piece of ass again,” he said pleasantly. “I’ll make you my bitch.”

Raylan pushed Colt off and threw an elbow into his throat. Colt blocked the blow but not the next one that caught him in the side just above his kidneys. He doubled over and took a step back with his hand on his side.

“Point taken,” Colt backed away. “Hope you got mine too.”

“What the hell?” Tim said from behind Raylan. “I’m tryin’ to sleep.”

Raylan turned to see Tim standing there without a stitch on. He swallowed. “For God’s sake, put something on.”

Tim glanced down at his admittedly impressive attributes. “Too much temptation for you?”

“That’s right. Now go get a robe or a sheet. A curtain. Anything.”

“Was that Colt?” Tim asked as he left the foyer headed for his bed.

Raylan did his best not to stare at the cutest buns he’d ever seen, but his best just wasn’t good enough. While Tim got dressed, Raylan called Rachel. He didn’t mention Colt’s ambush; that was between him and Colt.

Tim returned wearing jeans and a black T-shirt with the crow earring pinned to the pocket. His forearms looked sculpted from marble by a Renaissance genius. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Breakfast and a band meeting.”

“Did Ray say anything about hitting the road soon?”

“She did not, but I assume that will be on the agenda at your meeting.”

“Hey,” Tim said as they left the apartment. “Sorry about Colt and all that.”

“Accepted, but seriously, _what_ do you find attractive about him?”

“He doesn’t give a fuck who I am.”

“Come again?”

“I’m not a rock star to Colt. I’m just some guy he wants to fuck. Understand?”

“Yeah, that actually makes sense, but… I think you could do better.”

Tim glanced sideways at Raylan. “Yeah, me too.”

Rachel was in the front hall when Tim and Raylan came down the stairs. The front door was just closing. “Good morning,” she said. “Breakfast is on the buffet. Raylan, a minute please?”

Raylan watched Tim through the arched entrance into the kitchen while he listened to Rachel.

“Like we figured, the mic was rigged. Everyone in our little world knows that T always does his own mic check, so I can only conclude that he was the target.”

“Agreed.”

“I know you like Colt for it, but my opinion on that hasn’t changed.” She gave Raylan a calculating look. “Are you going to be able to work with him?”

“I’d sooner work at a distance from him.”

Rachel nodded. “Understood. I just sent him to pick up Mr. Quarles. Mr. Duffy thinks the down time is a great opportunity to do the interviews. Colt will make sure he isn’t followed.”

“It’s true I have a low opinion of Colt, but I think he’s capable of spotting someone tailing him.”

“So, no objections?”

“I’m not thrilled, but then again, that’s not why I signed on. I’m here to do a job.” Raylan looked over her shoulder into the kitchen. He watched Tim lick jelly off his fingers and lost his train of thought for a second. “If you trust Colt, that’ll have to be good enough for me.”

“Don’t get me wrong. Colt’s an asshole, but he’s completely loyal to T, and between you and me, I’d hate to see what he’d do to anyone who hurt that boy.”

“Amen to that, but—”

“What?”

“Tim and Colt are playin’ some kind of sick game and it disturbs me.”

“It’s not pretty,” she agreed. “But they’re grown men, so….”

“Yeah, I get that, but it’s a security problem.”

“True, but I feel like we can handle it, and I wouldn’t characterize it as sick. A little kinky maybe but not perverted.”

“Any idea why?” Raylan let the question hang.

Rachel lowered her voice. “Do I have any idea why T likes to be manhandled?” She shook her head. “Nothing specific, though he did have a hard childhood.”

“Poverty? Abuse? Druggie parents?”

“All of the above, I imagine. He doesn’t talk about it, but you just know he had it rough.”

Raylan nodded. “How long you reckon we’ll be staying here?”

“I don’t see any reason we can’t make our next concert date tomorrow night.” She smiled. “You’ll like the tour bus. It’s fun.”

“Your sarcasm is subtle, but I’m startin’ to pick up on it.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Rachel nodded toward the kitchen. “Go get something to eat. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Raylan went into the kitchen, spotted the coffee maker, and poured a cup. He grabbed a bear claw from a platter of pastries and sat down opposite Tim. Dewey and Danny were just visible through the arch that led to a common area. Boyd was pushing the remains of an omelet around his plate. Tim had strawberry jelly on the corner of his mouth.

“You got a little somethin’.” Raylan pointed.

“Let me get that.” Boyd put a hand under Tim’s chin and licked the smear of jam away.

“It’s a little early for that, boys,” Rachel said as she walked in. She topped off her coffee and came over to the table.

“Can you blame me?” Boyd grinned and pinched Tim’s cheek. “Sweeter than sugar.”

“Give it a rest,” Dewey called from the doorway. “Christ, Crowder, can’t you keep your tongue off him for five minutes? Let’s get this meetin’ on.”

“You’re a lovely shade of green, Dewey Crowe,” Boyd said.

“What’s that mean?” Dewey turned to Danny. “Do I look green?”

“For fuck’s sake, he’s sayin’ you’re jealous,” Danny replied. “Are you sure we’re kin?”

Boyd got up and put his plate on the counter by the sink before he joined the Crowes. Tim grabbed a chocolate-filled croissant and carried his coffee cup into the living room. Raylan followed, carrying his own mug. He sat a short distance away from the others and ate a biscuit while they talked. Rachel hovered in the kitchen, fielding calls on her headset.

“Firstly,” Dewey said. “It’s a go for the show tomorrow night. We can leave today and rehearse there tomorrow. Or we can rehearse here and leave tomorrow. What’s everybody think?”

“Leave tomorrow,” Tim and Boyd said in unison.

“All right then,” Dewey said. “Hey, Ray!” he called out. “We need to get the equipment delivered here.”

Rachel gave him a thumbs-up to show she’d heard and went on with her call.

“Now, do we want to discuss the playlist, or should we save the screaming for last?” Dewey looked around at his band mates.

Boyd looked at Tim. Tim shrugged. “Save it for last,” Boyd said. “What’s next?”

“I’d like to bring up something personal,” Dewey said. He glared at Tim. “I know you ain’t much more than a child, but there is a limit to what I’ll put up with from you.”

“Can you be more specific?” Tim said.

“If you really want me to.”

Tim pursed his lips. “Now I’m intrigued. What did I do?”

“Stop havin’ sex in public places. Is that too much to ask?” Dewey burst out. “If you ain’t got no self-respect, you could at least have some for your friends.” He made a face. “Some things cain’t be unseen.”

“Like what?”

“Like Colt’s bare ass for one.”

“Aw, hell no!” Boyd exclaimed. “I just ate.”

“Are you all seriously butt-shaming Colt?” Tim tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t manage it. He cracked up, leaning against Boyd’s shoulder.

“All I’m askin’ is, the next time you just gotta suck a dick, do it somewhere’s private,” Dewey said.

“Why doesn’t anyone want me to have any fun?” Tim appealed to Raylan.

“Don’t look at me,” Raylan said. “I’m on Dewey’s side here.”

“You know I don’t give a flyin’ fuck at a rollin’ donut about you bein’ queer, brother,” Dewey said. “But it’d sure be nice if you’d keep the man-lovin’ outta sight.”

“Okay.”

“You can swap spit in front of me all you want,” Dewey continued. “But if I trip over any buttsex, I’m gonna lose it.”

“You made your point,” Tim said. “And I am sorry I offended you.”

“It was mostly Colt’s ass that put me off, to be fair,” Dewey said. He smirked. “You do got a purty mouth though.”

Tim threw the remains of his croissant at Dewey. “Just to be clear, me and Boyd can still make out in the living room, but no blow jobs or tossed salad, right?”

“Right.”

“What about hand jobs?”

“I hate you,” Dewey said.

“No, you don’t,” Tim retorted.

Danny laughed. “Dewey, you’re just pissed off ‘cause T gets all the bumper he wants.”

Dewey rolled his eyes. “I ain’t jealous.” He paused. “A little envious maybe.” He paused again. “If he was doin’ women.” One more pause. “You all know what I mean.”

“I ain’t doin’ it on purpose to piss you off,” Tim said. “Ass just seems to come to me.”

“Yeah, it’s a real gift.” Boyd chuckled. “T cain’t walk to the corner without trippin’ over ass.”

“He’s got ass fallin’ outta his pockets,” Danny chimed in.

Though it had started as a joke on him, Dewey couldn’t resist joining in. “I’m gonna buy T some hip-boots for his birthday so he can wade through all that ass.”

Raylan cleared his throat. “Could we stop sayin’ ass now? I believe you boys have just about exhausted the permutations of the word.” He saw the smile forming on Tim’s lips and immediately wished he’d kept quiet, but it wasn’t Tim who spoke.

“Is it possible we offended your bodyguard by reducing a human being to an object, even if that object is part of human anatomy?” Boyd said to Tim.

“No,” Raylan said. “It was just repetitive and mildly annoying.”

Boyd looked at Tim. “ _Mildly_ annoying,” he said.

“We’ll have to try harder,” Tim said.

Raylan was relieved when Rachel spoked in his earpiece to let him know the band’s equipment had arrived.


	11. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby Quarles interviews Stone the Crowes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see notes on first chapter.

The equipment van was escorted by Colt who assured Rachel no one had followed them. Rachel showed Bobby Quarles into the common area where he greeted the band members effusively. He was so lavish in his praise that even Boyd thought it was a bit much.

“While your equipment is being set up, I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes?” Quarles held up a tiny device. “I’d like to record?”

Rachel nodded. “It’s in the agreement. You’ve got approximately forty minutes to an hour. Raylan, I assume you’ll be staying with T?”

“You assume correctly, ma’am.”

“Excellent. I have a call with Mr. Duffy in five. You can take them to the ballroom when you get word it’s set up.”

Raylan nodded and then gave his attention back to his client. He gave himself three heartbeats to enjoy the tousled hair, limber body, and bare feet before he snapped back into guard dog mode. In those instants, he realized it wasn’t just Tim’s physical charms that drew him. Though he was often shocked by the singer, the truth was he admired him for being so open about who he was and what he wanted. Raylan could not imagine being so free.

“Mr. Givens?” Quarles said.

“How can I help you?” Raylan curbed his instinctive, irrational dislike of Quarles.

“Are you comfortable with being recorded?”

“As long as you don’t quote me.”

Quarles’ laugh didn’t fool anyone. “That’s kind of the point, Mr. Givens.”

“I’m not in the band and call me Raylan. When I hear Mr. Givens, I expect to see my dad, and I hate that asshole.”

Quarles smiled. “There, now, you see. That would have been a wonderful quote. So colorful.”

Raylan bit his tongue. No point in letting Quarles know he got under his skin. “I seem to remember signing a release along with my contract, so I’d say this is a useless conversation.”

“Delightful.” Quarles put the recorder on the coffee table equidistant from the four band members. “Now, I know the story about Boyd running into two guys from his home county in New Orleans, but I’ve never heard how T joined the band. That’s something of a mystery to your fans. I’m hoping you’ll tell me that story today.”

“So… we have until midnight?” Tim said.

“Hey,” Boyd said. “This is his job. You ought to respect that.”

“Sorry,” Tim said to Quarles. “I don’t like talking about it. Not my finest moment.”

“I’ll tell it,” Dewey said eagerly. “Me and Danny and Boyd had a gig playin’ three nights a week at this biker bar outside of Baton Rouge. These weren’t pussy weekend warriors. They were ass-kickin’ sons-of—”

“Dewey,” Boyd said. “Why don’t you let me tell it? You tend to embroider the facts.”

“Uh-oh,” Tim said. “We have a pot and kettle situation brewing.”

Quarles looked from Dewey to Boyd to Tim. “Anyone,” he said.

Boyd cleared his throat. “Dewey is correct in statin’ that we, The Outlaws, were playing at a bar frequented by some hardcore types. We played low-key blues in the background, no vocals. Kind of a soundtrack for drug deals and brawls. We kept our heads down, did our sets, took our money, stayed for a beer because we ain’t pussies, and went home. One night, we were playin’ some Allman Brothers, and I looked up and saw this angel walk into the lion’s den.”

Tim slapped the back of Boyd’s head.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like it,” Boyd said. “But that’s what I was thinkin’ when I saw you walk in, and you know that because I told you not an hour later and several times since.” He looked over at Quarles. “He was barely eighteen, and he had the balls to walk into that place. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah,” Raylan said. “I got no trouble at all believin’ that.”

“What were you doing there?” Quarles asked Tim.

“Looking for a date. After I left home, I stopped pretending I was anything but gay, but I found out I had a kink. As kinks go, it’s pretty vanilla, but it took me to a few places I probably shouldn’t have been at that age.” Tim shrugged. “I was lucky. I never got bashed. But then again, I was pretty damn subtle, and I always let them come to me.”

“And they sure did.” Boyd shook his head, half-chiding, half-admiring. “I’d never kissed a man before I met you. Never even thought about it.”

Quarles made a strange little noise. “Excuse me,” he said. “My throat’s a little sore and it hurts when I swallow. Don’t worry. I’m not contagious. I was in a cigar bar last night.”

Boyd passed Quarles a bottle of water. “So, there I was starin’ at this visitor from heaven.”

“And I threw a drumstick at him.” Dewey cackled.

“Yes, you did,” Boyd said. “And I’ll get you back for that when you least expect it. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. So, Tim walked in like Goldilocks invading the three bears’ house. I had a premonition that something bad was going to happen.”

“It was no big deal,” Tim interjected. “Some guy’s girlfriend asked me to dance, that’s all.”

“The guy didn’t like it much.” Dewey laughed again.

“When I mentioned bears earlier, I wasn’t kiddin’,” Boyd said. “This old boy that wanted to fight Tim must have been six foot six and he was covered in hair.”

“Looked like a yard-Bigfoot,” Danny corroborated.

“When he made his move, I got on the mic,” Boyd said. “The first thing that come into my head, I just hollered right out.”

Tim laughed. “He yells out, where the hell you been, boy?”

“Everyone in the place turned around to look at me,” Boyd said.

“And you loved it.” Tim elbowed Boyd in the ribs but with love.

“I pointed at Tim and told him to get his ass to the stage,” Boyd said. “Even though there wasn’t really a stage. I pretended he was our roadie.”

“And everyone fell for it,” Tim said. “Even me. I stuck around and helped pack up the equipment.”

“We offered him a ride to our next stop,” Boyd said. “I was drivin’, and he sat up front and kept me awake while these lazy bitches slept.”

“Just as a goof, I started singing _Me and Bobby McGee_ ,” Tim said. “Because, you know—” Tim sang, “Busted flat in Baton Rouge. Waitin’ for a train.”

Tim stopped and Raylan found himself wishing the kid would sing more. Tim’s voice was a warm baritone that stroked his ears like sable.

“I woke the rest of them up,” Boyd said. “I kept sayin, you gotta hear this.”

“The rest is history,” Dewey said grandly. “We took in a stray pup and he learned to howl with the pack.”

“That’s beautiful, Dewey,” Tim said. He held up his fist for Dewey to bump.

“How long have you wanted to be a singer?” Quarles asked.

“Never.” Tim laughed. “I never once thought about being a singer growin’ up. Sure, I used to sing all the time, like when I was out walkin’ or in the shower, but I never sang for anybody.”

“He was just so fuckin’ good,” Boyd said. “In the van with no mic and no idea what he was doin’, he sang the shit out of that song. I knew he could be a star if he wanted to.” He tousled Tim’s hair. “I could see it shinin’ out of him.”

“Boyd always did say that,” Danny chimed in.

“Hell yeah, I did!” Boyd exclaimed. “With T out front doing his thing, I knew we’d get somewhere, and look where we are now.”

“I know what you mean,” Quarles said eagerly. “He’s a force of nature. Ineluctable. Ineffable.”

“Gosh,” Tim said. “You’ll make me blush. Or you would if I knew what those words meant.”

“I’m sorry,” Quarles said. “Sometimes I get carried away.”

“Don’t stress,” Boyd said. “I’ll explain it to T later.”

“Excuse me,” Raylan said as Rachel spoke in his earpiece. He walked to the arched doorway and turned to keep Tim in sight. “Go ahead,” he said into his lapel mic. After a few seconds, he returned to the group. “Your equipment is set up,” he said.

“Let’s make some noise, boys!” Dewey hollered.

Danny high-fived Dewey as they headed to the door. Boyd reached out to shake Quarles’ hand before he took Tim’s hand and hauled him to his feet. They followed the Crowe cousins with Raylan at their backs. Quarles tucked his recorder into his watch pocket as he watched them walk away. Under the pink and white seersucker jacket, his shoulders drooped dejectedly.

“I hope we can talk again later,” Quarles called out.

Boyd looked over his shoulder and then beckoned to Quarles. “Come on, man. No law says you can’t watch us rehearse.”

Quarles moved so fast he was practically skipping.


	12. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rehearsal and a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see notes on previous chapters.

The palatial safe house had a ballroom. It was large and had a very high ceiling, but it was nowhere as big as a traditional ballroom. It was, however, large enough for a rock band to rehearse in. Mikey the sound guy, filling in for Dickie, even praised the acoustics.

Boyd picked up his black Fender Stratocaster and plugged in. He dug a pick from his pocket and ran it down the strings filling the room with bright sound. Dewey sat down behind his drum kit and picked up his sticks. Danny played a few chords on his electric keyboard. Tim grabbed his mic from the stand.

“What should we play first?”

“Fuck, we forgot to talk about the playlist,” Danny said.

“Why’s it got to be so hard?” Dewey asked. “We do two sets of six songs each and then a two-song encore. That’s fourteen songs. We have at least thirty to choose from. Why’s it always such a fucking nightmare?”

Danny pointed at Boyd and Tim. “It’s them. They always have to argue about the opening song and the closing song. Every time.”

“We’re opening with _My Dad’s Cadillac_ ,” Tim said. “No question.”

“Hold on,” Boyd said. “That song gets people on their feet, but I think _Jump Junction_ is the way to go.”

“The break in the middle is too long,” Tim objected.

Boyd shook his head. “It gives each of us a chance to introduce ourselves with our instruments.”

“That’s why we should open the second set with it.”

“We should open the second set with _Cadillac_ ,” Boyd countered.

Raylan caught Tim’s eye and held his gaze for a moment.

Whatever Tim saw in Raylan’s face gave him pause. “You really think that’s a better choice?” he asked Boyd. He turned to include Dewey and Danny in the question.

Danny shrugged. “Makes me no never-mind.”

“Boyd generally does knows what people want,” Dewey said.

“Okay.” Tim looked around. “Let’s run through _Jump_. Dewey, count us in.”

Though it was a little too loud for Raylan, he sat enthralled as Stone the Crowes played a loose rendition of a song that chugged powerfully down the track carrying the listener with it. And then they launched into a tighter version that was like riding a silver bullet train on nitrous. Raylan didn’t know a lot about music, but he knew enough to know these guys were damn good.

Boyd was a virtuoso on the guitar. Dewey never missed a beat or a fill. Danny created a musical tapestry with his keyboards as a backdrop for the others. Tim’s voice was pure rock’n’roll gold, honey and acid, sandpaper and silk. And added to all that was the one thing you couldn’t get with money or practice: stage presence. Even in this bare room wearing street clothes, the Crowes radiated charisma.

When the sound died, Raylan applauded. “Awkward,” he said when everyone turned to stare at him.

“But not unwelcome,” Tim said. “I say we go with the second rendition. Opinions?”

“The second one,” Danny said.

“Yep,” Dewey said.

“I don’t know,” Boyd said slowly.

Dewey threw a drumstick at him.

Boyd dodged aside. “I’m just havin’ a little fun. Mikey, write down open with Jump allegro, please.” He grinned. “I feel like we’re makin’ a lot of progress already.”

Raylan sat through the rest of the rehearsal feeling privileged to be there. When it broke up, he called Rachel and got the go ahead for lunch. A barbecue banquet had been set up on the deck, where Rachel was waiting with Wynn Duffy and Ava.

Boyd hurried forward to greet Ava with a hug and they walked over to the buffet together. Dewey and Danny were right behind them. Tim looked to Raylan. Raylan nodded and Tim joined his friends while Raylan stopped to talk to Rachel.

“I’m sure you want an update,” Rachel said. “The police lab hasn’t found any usable fingerprints on the rigged equipment, so they’ve hit a wall. The reality is that we have no clues, but we do have a show tomorrow night. If we cancel it—”

“We lose a significant amount of money and momentum,” Duffy finished for her. “Is there any reason we should cancel the show?”

“It will be impossible to adequately protect Tigger while he’s onstage,” Raylan said.

“He’s willing to take that chance,” Duffy said.

“Then I’ll do what I can to keep him alive.”

“Good.” Duffy patted Raylan’s shoulder. “Okay. The bus will be here at six a.m. It will leave as soon as you’re all on board. Thank you, Raylan.”

Duffy shook Raylan’s hand and walked away.

“Why did he thank me?” Rayland asked Rachel.

“You don’t even know, do you?” She considered. “But how could you? You don’t know what it was like before you came along.”

“I’ve only been here a few days.”

“Yes, and in that time, T hasn’t had a single meltdown. He usually has at least one a day. Either the coffee is too hot or too cold. He can’t find his favorite T-shirt. He left his phone in the limo. If he can’t think of anything, he makes something up.”

“So, he likes attention. I get it.”

“He must like _your_ attention.” Rachel adjusted Raylan’s tie. “I’m trying to tell you you’re doing a great job. Today should be an easy day and tomorrow we head to Nashville.”

“I’ll be ready.” Raylan looked over her shoulder.

“We should have a drink after dinner and just talk. Interested?’

“Sure.”

“Okay, I can see you’re chomping at the bit. Go find T.”

Raylan left her, got a plate, and went to sit with Tim, Boyd, Ava, and Quarles.

“Hello, handsome,” Tim said.

“Hey, yourself, hot stuff,” Raylan said.

Boyd burst into laughter. He held up his hand for Raylan to slap. “Touché,” he said, bumping Tim’s shoulder. “After they catch the asshole who threatened you, I think we should keep Raylan around.”

“Yeah, right,” Tim scoffed. “He can’t wait to get away from us.”

Boyd looked at Raylan. “Is that true? I know the rest of these fools are hard to take, but I thought you at least liked me.”

“I don’t have to like you to do my job.” Raylan paused. “But it’s a nice bonus.”

“Good save,” Tim said.

Raylan heard an off note in Tim’s voice that raised a red flag. He didn’t know what it meant, but he knew it wasn’t anything good. So, when the trouble started, he was ready.


	13. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bye-bye, Colt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see notes on previous chapters.

After lunch, the band practiced for two more hours. Boyd and Ava disappeared, ostensibly to watch a movie in his room. Dewey and Danny took a bottle of whisky to the game room and played pool for quarters. Tim, accompanied by Raylan, was on the back deck gazing at the appealing view of wooded hills. Tim leaned on the railing and tilted his head back to watch the clouds sail slowly by.

Raylan let his gaze linger on the lines of Tim’s profile, his jaw, and neck before traveling down his lean frame. He heard someone approaching and turned toward the sound. His posture stiffened as Colt walked up the steps to the deck.

Colt nodded to Raylan. “I need to talk to T,” he said.

“You can talk in front of Raylan,” Tim said.

“What if I don’t want to talk in front of Raylan?”

“That’s what’s known as tough shit.”

Colt laughed softly. “Okay, baby.” He moved closer to Tim.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” Tim asked.

“I’m not happy with the current state of our relationship.”

“We don’t have a relationship, Colt.”

“Yeah, that’s a dumbass word,” Colt said. “I don’t like not havin’ access. How’s that?”

“Well, it’s more honest, I’ll give you that,” Tim answered.

Colt put a hand on Tim’s hip and squeezed. “Don’t you miss me, baby?”

“In my weaker moments.”

“So?”

“What?”

Colt glanced at Raylan. “We both know who’s keepin’ us apart. What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

“The thing is,” Tim drawled. “It clearly ain’t the problem for me that it is for you.”

“I’ve warned you before about playin’ with me. Don’t start something if you don’t mean to finish it.”

Tim turned from the railing to face Colt directly. “Yeah, let’s finish it,” he said.

Tim’s posture put Raylan on alert. He pulled back his jacket and put his hand on his Glock. Neither Colt nor Tim saw him; they were utterly focused on one another, eyes locked.

“Is this still foreplay, Tigger?” Colt said.

Tim shook his head. “I’m done with this.”

“You sure?” Colt squeezed Tim’s hip again. “Are you really sure you can do without it?”

“I don’t know,” Tim said candidly. “Let’s find out.”

“That’s your decision then?”

“Yeah.”

Colt laughed. “I do believe you are about as cold-hearted as I am. Well, it sure was a good ride, baby. Not many people love fuckin’ the way you do.” He turned toward the steps.

Raylan relaxed a little but only a little. It looked as though Colt wasn’t going to cause trouble, but the man was unpredictable.

“Thanks,” Tim called after Colt. “I hope you find somebody as fucked up as you.”

Colt spun and grabbed Tim, bending him backward over the railing. It was a move calculated to rob a person of balance and the ability to fight back. It worked well. Colt leaned in to look into Tim’s eyes. “You’re gonna miss this,” he whispered.

Raylan put a hand on Colt’s shoulder and pulled him off Tim. He drew his gun, and Colt froze in the middle of throwing a punch to put his hands up in surrender. 

“Go on now,” Raylan said. “You aren’t welcome here any longer.”

Colt nodded. “I’m goin’, but we’ll see each other again, cowboy. Bet on it.”

“You should make an appointment,” Raylan said. “A lot of assholes want to see me.” He gestured with the Glock. “Get on out of here before I shoot you.”

Colt grinned. “You’d shoot me? Really? Why?”

“You piss me off.”

“Thought so. You win for now, but he’ll get tired of you too.” Colt turned and walked away slowly, daring Raylan to shoot him in the back.

Tim shook himself like a wet dog as though he could rid himself of Colt’s touch. “That was intense,” he said.

“Were you serious about being done with him?” Raylan asked curtly.

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t put me in another situation like that one.”

“You wouldn’t really have shot Colt.”

“This close.” Raylan held up his thumb and forefinger a hair apart. “He physically attacked you.”

“Nah. That was just Colt trying to make a point. He’s not very good at it. He’s a genius at brute force though.”

“Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

 

Break

 

Tim was so quiet at dinner that almost everyone remarked on it. He said he was tired, and the excuse was accepted. When the others went to the game room, he went upstairs.

“You don’t feel sick, do you?” Raylan asked as Tim sat listlessly in a chair.

Tim picked up the remote and turned on the television.

“Are you still pissed at me for telling you to shut up?”

Tim looked over at Raylan. “No. I’m pissed that you think so little of me.”

“I fail to see how my opinion matters in your world.”

“Do you think what Colt said is true?”

The conversational swerve threw Raylan off-balance for a moment. “What did he say?”

“That I’m as cold as he is.”

“I wouldn’t characterize you as cold. You seem plenty hot-blooded to me.”

“I just thought it was a strange thing for him to say.”

Raylan shrugged. “I wouldn’t let it bother me if I was you.”

“But it does bother me.”

“I think I’m gonna need a drink for this.” Raylan went to the sideboard. “You?”

“No, thanks, and just for the record, you don’t have to hold my hand.”

“I know that, Tim.”

“It’s kind of nice to hear my name. Everybody calls me T or Tigger or you dick.”

Raylan sat down opposite Tim. “I’m here to listen if you want to talk.”

“Here’s the thing,” Tim said. “I don’t want you to think I’m heartless. I mean, it’s not like Colt was madly in love with me and I broke his heart.”

“I didn’t think it was like that.” Raylan looked into his glass. “Though that would have been better somehow.”

“I don’t get you.”

“Maybe you ain’t tried the right bait.” As Raylan had hoped, Tim smiled. “Seriously, don’t lose any sleep over Colton Rhodes’ opinion of you.” He took a sip of the whisky. “And I don’t think you’re heartless.”

“But?”

“My daddy is prone to frequent bars, and when I was little, he used to take me with him. He was also prone to commenting on the other patrons. Now and then, he’d see a fine woman with a pig of a man who treated her like shit. Pearls before swine, he’d say.” Raylan met Tim’s eyes. “That’s you. So, the next time you find someone as bad as Colt, and you’re ready to make your move, remember that pigs cain’t appreciate pearls.”

“Wow, that’s some real, backwoods folksy wisdom right there.”

“You asked.”

“I regret it, believe me.” Tim glanced at the TV. “Fuck me, it’s The Lost Boys!”

Seeing the principal was distracted, Raylan took the opportunity to check in with Rachel. He went over the situation with Colt and told her Tigger was most likely in for the night. She replied that she understood and wished him a good night.

Tim watched most of The Lost Boys and went to bed. Raylan set his alarm and went to lie down.


	14. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleeing into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lead singer of rock band Stone the Crowes is being stalked. Bodyguard Raylan Givens is hired to keep him alive.

Raylan woke reaching for his gun. He sat up with the Glock in his hand and eased his legs over the side of the bed. A second later, he registered the smell of smoke.

He shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair, and hurried across the room to wake Tim.

Raylan called Rachel on the radio. “Nike, are you there?”

“Roger, Cowboy. I just woke up. We’ve got fire down here.”

“I’m smelling smoke. I’m taking Tigger out the back.”

“Fire department has been called. I’m evacuating everyone, though the fire seems localized.”

“Better to not take chances.”

“What’s going on?” Tim asked.

“Just get dressed and come with me.”

“Bossy.” Tim pulled on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and his boots.

“There’s a fire downstairs,” Raylan said. “We’re evacuating.”

“Do you think it was Colt?”

“Do you?” Raylan asked as they went into the hall.

“Not really, but he was pretty mad when he left. He gets real calm when he’s mad.”

“This way,” Raylan said when Tim turned toward the stairs. “There’s a stairwell in the corner.”

Raylan and Tim took the steep, switchback staircase to the first floor. Raylan opened the first door they came to and led Tim onto the back lawn. When Tim didn’t move fast enough, Raylan took his arm and pulled him away from the building. Caught off-guard, Tim stumbled. They heard the crack of a gunshot and a bullet hit the wall, spraying chips of fieldstone. Another bullet flew past where Tim’s head had been before he tripped. Raylan threw Tim to the ground and covered him with his body. Gun in hand, he scanned the area but saw no one.

After a few minutes, Tim spoke. “Whoever it was seems to have stopped firing.”

Raylan let Tim up. “It appears you’re correct.”

The gun cracked again, and Raylan fired in the direction of the muzzle flash. Rising to a crouch, Raylan pulled Tim up. Firing the Glock for cover, Raylan ran with Tim into the trees that bordered the side yard.

“Stay down,” Raylan said tersely as he waited for another muzzle flash. For a brief moment, he saw a darker shadow in the night and then something landed in the leaves a few feet away. “Run,” he said as he pushed Tim ahead of him deeper into the woods. Behind them, an explosion lit the trees like a sudden sun.

“Fuck!” Tim said under his breath as he picked up the pace.

Raylan moved faster, worried he might lose Tim in the dark forest. “Stay with me,” he hissed.

Tim waited for Raylan to come up beside him.

“Start angling to the left,” Raylan whispered.

Tim didn’t argue. He moved through the trees like a deer with Raylan right beside him. Behind them, they could hear sounds of pursuit. Abruptly, they came out onto a paved surface. Three vehicles were parked in the center. One of them was Raylan’s Lincoln. Raylan already had the key fob out.

Bullets tore past them as they ran to the car. Raylan stayed at Tim’s back as a shield, but the shooter was either a bad marksman or didn’t want to hit them. They opened the doors and dove into the shelter of the big vehicle at the same time. Raylan started the engine and then they were speeding away with bullets ricocheting off the pavement.

“Where are we going?” Tim asked when Raylan headed away from the lights of the emergency vehicles.

“Away from here,” Raylan said in a voice that didn’t invite any more questions.

“Aren’t you going to call Rachel?”

“Nope.”

“She’ll be worried.”

“Until I figure out who I can trust, there will be no contact with anyone from your organization. Are we clear?”

“Uh… yeah.” Tim sat back in his seat. His bodyguard was clearly in combat mode and there was no point in trying to talk to him.

 

Break

 

Tim woke and realized the car was still moving. He looked out the window and saw nothing but trees and mountains. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe… I hope.”

“You’re not going to tell me where we are?”

“Not yet.”

“Isn’t this kidnapping or something?”

“No, this is the job.” Raylan glanced at Tim. “ _You’re_ the job.”

Tim turned to the window with an incipient pout on his lips.

Raylan turned off the two-lane onto a gravel road. After a mile or so, the trees grew so close to the track that they brushed the sides of the car.

“Seriously,” Tim said. “I’m hearin’ banjo music.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised. Sound carries in these hollers and a lot of folks play banjo.”

Tim took out his phone and looked at it. “No bars,” he said.

Raylan plucked the phone from Tim’s hand, broke it against the steering wheel, and tossed it out the window.

Tim stared at him open-mouthed.

“Look,” Raylan said. “I don’t know how your stalker is getting so close to you. Everyone is a suspect at the moment, except for me.”

“I’m a suspect?”

“It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that you set it up with someone else.”

“Why would I do that?”

“For attention.”

Tim blinked at Raylan and then turned to look out the window again. He didn’t speak until Raylan stopped the car in front of a small cabin.

“You’re kidding,” Tim said. “Does it even have electricity?”

“There’s a generator, but we won’t be using it.” Raylan got out of the car.

Tim followed. “It’s fucking cold.”

“Yep.” Raylan opened the cabin door with a key and waved Tim inside.

“It stinks in here.”

Raylan sighed. Unerringly, for he knew the space by heart, he found a lantern and box of matches on a table. He lit the wick, checked to see the shades were pulled down on the windows, and then lit another lantern. The corners were massed with shadows, but there was enough light to keep Tim from breaking his neck.

“It’s still a couple of hours till dawn,” Raylan said. “So, we’re going to sleep if we’re able.”

“Where?”

“Right here.” Raylan tilted the back of the armless couch until it clicked and then lowered it to form a flat surface. He pulled two down sleeping bags from a trunk and threw them on the bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Tim took off his boots and crawled into one of the sleeping bags. Raylan sat down on the other side of the bed and took inventory of his ammo.

“Goddam, it’s cold,” Tim said.

“I can do something about that,” Raylan answered. “Unzip that bag and spread it out.”

“Okay.” Tim did as Raylan asked.

“Now unzip the other one and spread it out too. Take your clothes off and get between them.”

“If you say so.” Tim stripped down to his briefs and pulled the makeshift comforter over him.

Raylan blew out one of the lamps and turned the other down as low as it would go. He undressed in near darkness and then slid between the sleeping bags.  
“Don’t punch me,” he said.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because of what I’m about to do.”

Raylan put his arms around Tim from behind and pulled him close.

“What are you doing?” Tim didn’t sound upset just curious.

“This is the best way to keep warm. Skin-to-skin between two blankets.”

“I thought that was just a movie excuse to get the actors naked.”

“Nope.” Raylan ignored how good Tim’s hair smelled and how good Tim’s butt felt snuggled up to his crotch. They were staying warm. Period. Raylan definitely didn’t need this kind of trouble, no matter how appealing Tim was.

“It works,” Tim said a few moments later.

“Grand. Now, go to sleep.”

They tried, but neither slept that night.


	15. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lead singer of rock band Stone the Crowes has a stalker. Bodyguard Raylan Givens is hired to protect him.

Milky light was trickling through the gaps at the bottoms of the window shades when Raylan woke. He was immediately aware of a warm, supple body in his arms and that he had prodigious morning wood. Moving as slowly as humanly possible, he eased his crotch away from Tim’s ass.

“I’m awake,” Tim said. “And that thing has been poking me in the butt for a while.”

“Sorry.”

“You should be. Now, I’m horny and there’s no one here to play with.” Tim glanced over his shoulder. “Can I at least have a look?”

“Enough,” Raylan said. “It might surprise you to know I’m as turned on as you are, but… I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“Why the hell not? I’m a consenting adult, and I consent with every fiber of my being.”

“I have good reasons.” Raylan realized he still had an arm wrapped around Tim. “I’m gettin’ up now.”

Tim rolled over. “Go ahead.”

“You realize I’m wearing underwear?”

“I have a good imagination.”

“This is ridiculous.” Raylan threw the cover back and was immediately assailed by frigid air. He scrambled back between the sleeping bags and found himself face-to-face with Tim.

“Hi.” Tim gave Raylan a lazy smile.

Raylan turned away and snagged the soft stack of folded clothes. He pulled it under the sleeping bag and managed to get dressed. He put his boots on and went outside to return with an armload of firewood. Using the kindling and matches in the box beside the fireplace, he got a fire going. It took a few minutes, but the air in the cabin began to warm up.

“Why couldn’t we have a fire last night?” Tim asked.

Raylan smiled. “That’s a good question.”

Tim ran his hands through his tangled hair. “I hate you,” he said.

Raylan found coffee grounds, bottled water, and a pot. He filled the pot and set it in the fireplace. He rinsed two enameled mugs and poured them full of black coffee. He handed one to Tim who was sitting up with a sleeping bag around his bare shoulders.

“Still hate me?” Raylan asked.

Tim sipped the coffee and made a face. “More than ever,” he said.

“Don’t drink it then.”

Tim looked around at the sparse, handmade furnishings. “Is this your place?”

“It was my daddy’s, but he’s in prison, so he was happy to sell it to me.”

“Wow. Okay.”

“He trafficked in drugs,” Raylan said. “Among other things.”

“Wow again.” Tim took another sip of the bitter coffee. “I haven’t talked to my folks since I was sixteen and they kicked me out of the house.”

“I arrested my dad.”

“Okay. You win.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Raylan sighed. “I’m just not good at the whole sharing thing.”

“Hey, admitting you have a problem is the first step.”

“Let’s talk seriously for a minute.”

“I thought we were but okay.”

“Last night, we ran because I didn’t know who I could trust. I brought us here, because only a few people know about this place. My immediate plan is to drive down the mountain, gas up the Lincoln, pick up a few things, and see if I can get any news.”

“And you want me to stay here.”

“No. I don’t want you out of my sight.”

“Sweet!” Tim put his clothes on in front of the fireplace.

Raylan drove them to a convenience store on the highway. After filling the gas tank, he followed Tim into the store.

“Pick out whatever you want,” Raylan told Tim. “I need to make a call.” He stepped back out and watched Tim through the windows as he spoke into his cell. After he hung up, he went back in the store.

Tim was at the counter with a mountain of junk food in front of him.

“We don’t need all that,” Raylan said.

“You said pick whatever I wanted.”

“Two flavors of Bugles?”

“You said—”

“Okay, okay.” Raylan paid for a twelve-pack of Rolling Rock, a package of toilet paper, and approximately a dozen bags of chips of varying flavors. 

“So, what do you know?” Tim asked when they were back in the car.

“When Rachel didn’t hear from me, she called my boss. I just talked to him. He’s going to liaise for me.”

“How mad is she?”

“Art didn’t say, but to judge by his tone, she’s a little pissed that I didn’t trust her.”

“No doubt.”

“Colt has disappeared and could be anywhere.” Raylan paused. “There’s a burger shack down the road. We’ll think better with some real food in us.”

Tim looked over, his mouth full of Cheetos. “Sounds good,” he mumbled.

“You’re such a child.” Raylan pulled away from the convenience store. “No eating in my car and don’t you dare open a beer in this moving vehicle.”

Tim put the beer back in the box.

“I know,” Raylan said. “No one lets you have any fun.”

“You’re kind of a dick, you know that?”

“I was aware of that, yes.”

“Well… I wouldn’t want you to forget.”

Raylan smiled as he pulled up to the drive-through window. He ordered two cheeseburgers with everything, a large order of fries and one of onion rings.

“Damn that smells good,” Tim said when Raylan handed him the bags.

“No eating in my car,” Raylan said quickly.

“Sheesh, calm your tits. Are we going back to the cabin?”

“Most likely.”

“Is there any chance of a shower?”

“I’ll make it happen.”

“Cool.” Tim stuck his nose in the bag and inhaled. “You’re killin’ me.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

“Shit!” Tim ducked.

“What?”

“See that brown and white Bronco?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Colt’s ride.”

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure? I’ve had sex in that truck.”

“Did not need to know that.” Raylan eased past the Bronco parked on a side street. He pulled over to the curb. “You have special dispensation to eat some fries. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey,” Tim said, but Raylan was gone. Tim ate some fries and then some onion rings. He was eyeing the beer when Raylan returned.

“No sign of him,” Raylan said when he started the car. “But you’re right. That’s Colt’s vehicle.”

“How many brown-and-white Broncos could there be in the state?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think we should go back to the cabin.” Raylan took out his phone and looked at it before he pulled away from the curb. He turned just before the town limits of the next wide spot in the road and drove down another gravel road. At the end of it was a collection of dilapidated buildings known as Harvey’s Fishing Camp.

“You take me to the best places,” Tim joked.


	16. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger on the doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lead singer of rock band Stone the Crowes has a stalker. Bodyguard Raylan Givens is hired to protect him.

Raylan went to the office and rented a cabin on the river. It wasn’t fancy, but it was relatively clean, and it was at the end of the row of little cottages.

Tim sat down at the card table in the kitchen area and unwrapped a cheeseburger. Raylan joined him.

After the food was mostly gone, Tim opened a second beer. “Hey, did you notice the way people in that store were lookin’ at me?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t think that was weird?”

“I’d think you’d be used to people starin’ at you.” Raylan shook his head. “You don’t have any notion of yourself, do you?”

“What’s that mean? I know I’m not hideous.”

“Don’t you listen when Boyd’s talking about you? Or Ava?”

“Ava gets paid to say those things and Boyd’s full of shit.”

“Not when he’s talking about you.”

“I’m not blind, and I’ve got a mirror. _You_ are a good-lookin’ man. In fact, you’re about the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. Me? I’m about average.”

“It’s not your face. It’s the way you carry yourself.”

“How’s that?”

“Like a star.”

Tim laughed.

“I’ve been around a lot of celebrities,” Raylan said. “Believe me, you’ve got what the real stars have. When you move, I can’t take my eyes off you. Neither can anyone else.”

Tim didn’t make an immediate wisecrack. He sipped his beer and thought about what Raylan had said. “So, I guess the stage is the right place for me.”

“I’d say so.” Raylan debated silently and then went ahead and popped another beer.

It was quiet for a few minutes and then Tim spoke. “Why do you think somebody wants to kill me?”

Taken off-guard, Raylan didn’t answer right away.

Tim filled the silence. “I’ve tried to think of something I did that could have pissed someone off bad enough to stalk me, but I can’t come up with anything. Sure, I’ve been a dick to one or two people, but I’ve never fucked someone over, at least, not intentionally. I never slept with anybody’s wife or husband, not without their permission. I never killed anybody’s dog or stole from them. I never—”

“Tim.” Raylan held up a hand to stop the spate of words. “It’s most likely someone you’ve never even met.” He took a swallow of beer. “After looking at the file Mr. Duffy gave me, I concluded that your stalker is a world-class psycho. My theory is that he saw your picture or more likely a video and became obsessed. Maybe he doesn’t like the fact that you’re gay. Who knows?”

“In a weird way, I wish it was more personal.”

“It would be easier to understand,” Raylan agreed.

“Do you still think Colt had something to do with it?”

“I think Colt has motive, opportunity, and the right skills.” Raylan looked over at Tim. “But he ain’t the sneaky type.”

“No, Colt is definitely an in-your-face type.”

“Anyway, my money is on a stranger.” Raylan set down the empty bottle. “And I’m gettin’ a little tired of waiting for him to make a move.”

“What else can you do? If the police don’t have any clues…?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Raylan got to his feet. “I need to call Art. That’s assumin’ I can get a signal.” He stepped out the front door.

Tim took a small notepad from his back pocket. He was mad at Raylan for tossing his phone, but he still had his handwritten notes. He read a few lyrics from a song he was working on and let his mind wander, hoping more words would drift in. A noised impinged on his thoughts and he looked up at the door.

“Raylan?” he called but got no answer.

Tim went to the door and opened it a crack. His eyes widened at the sight of Raylan sprawled on the ground with blood matted in his hair.

“Easy now.” A man spoke from Tim’s right. “Don’t do anything thoughtless like yell for help. Mr. Givens will be fine. I know how to use a sap.”

Tim turned toward the voice. “What are you doing here?” he said.

Quarles stepped over Raylan. “Help me get him inside,” he said.

“Fuck that.”

Quarles took Raylan’s gun from his pocket. “It’s your choice. You can help me get him inside, or I can shoot him in the head.”

“Aren’t you afraid someone will hear the gunshot?”

“There’s no one in miles who’s still capable of hearing anything.”

Chilled by that statement, Tim helped Quarles drag Raylan into the cabin. Quarles used a lamp cord to tie Raylan’s wrists and left him on the floor.

Tim stood his ground as Quarles approached.

Quarles reached out and fingered the crow earring in Tim’s right ear. “I’m honored you’re wearing it.” He smiled. “And it made it so much easier to track you.”

“Shit.”

“I’m a clever guy. You can ask Colt. No, wait. You can’t.” Quarles giggled.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing he didn’t deserve, and I needed his car, but I don’t want to talk about that swine. I want to talk about you.”

“What do you want from me?”

Quarles’ face went blank. “Everything,” he whispered.

 

Break

 

Tim sat in the chair Quarles pointed to. He glanced at Raylan and was glad to see he was breathing. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Quarles said. “He no longer has relevance.”

“He does to me.”

Quarles lashed out in a backhanded slap that caught Tim on the right cheek. “Do you want me to kill him now?”

Tim put a hand to his face. “No,” he said sullenly.

“Then think before you speak, and don’t piss me off.”

“That’s gonna be tricky,” Tim said. He raised his voice. “Since I don’t fucking know what pisses you off.”

“Wonderful.” Quarles smiled. “You are everything I dreamed you’d be.”

Tim looked into Quarles’ eyes, blue as gas flames, and was abruptly certain he was going to die. He had never been this afraid of anyone in his life. He wished Boyd was there. Or Rachel. Or even Colt. But he was alone. He didn’t even dare look at Raylan again for fear the madman would shoot him.

Tim flinched when Quarles reached out to stroke his cheek. “Ow.”

“I’m sorry. I hate it when I lose control of my temper.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Quarles grinned. “I love you like this, but….” He shook his head. “You are so much more than you know. So much more than a raunchy performing monkey. You’re a force of nature.” He paused to take a deep breath. “You’ve been allowed to live as a child, but I will release you.”

“Okay, man. Whatever you want to call it. If you’re goin’ to molest me, just do it. Won’t be the first time.”

Quarles grabbed a fistful of Tim’s hair and pulled his head back. “I will help you become what you were meant to be, but… I’ll have to insist you show me a little more respect.”

“You’re kiddin’.”

“I’ve watched you for a long time, so I know you aren’t afraid of what I’ll do to you. I know you’ve already suffered horrors that I can’t match, pain that tempered you like steel in the forge.” Quarles looked down at Raylan. “But what if I were to take a knife to him?”

“I can’t stop you.”

“You can though, if you’ll just do as I say.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I’m not good at doing as I’m told.”

“That’s only because you’ve never had someone in your life with a strong enough hand to tame you.”

“So, you’re gonna break me like a horse?” Tim mustered a smirk. “Are there any more tired clichés you want to _trot_ out?”

The slap that Quarles delivered almost knocked Tim out of his chair. “That’s for disrespect,” he said. He raised his eyebrows at Tim as though awaiting a response.

Tim obliged. “You’re not very _stable,_ are you?”

Quarles lifted his hand again but hesitated.

“Quit _stall_ ing.” Tim smiled at Quarles.

Quarles trembled with the effort of staying his hand. “You’re deliberately provoking me,” he said in tones of quiet wonder.

“You’re kind of a slow learner, aren’t you?”

“Do you want me to hurt you?”

“Don’t take it personally. I’m this way with everybody.”

Quarles nodded. He lowered his hand and took the knife from his pocket. “I could never hurt you,” he said. “But I confess, I am extraordinarily curious about what you look like naked.”  
 


	17. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is trapped in a cabin with a madman and an unconscious bodyguard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No notes.

Raylan regained consciousness slowly. He was dimly aware of voices and that he was lying on something hard. He opened his eyelids a crack. He saw the legs of furniture, dust bunnies, and Tim’s bare feet. He realized he was on the floor, and then he remembered stepping out of the cabin and being struck on the back of the head. _Idiot!_ His stomach roiled, and he had to swallow a mouthful of bile. He concentrated on the voices and on staying as still as possible

“Thanks for being so cooperative,” Quarles said when Tim finished stripping off. He ran his gaze from the singer’s face to his feet and back again. “Perfect." 

“You want me to spin?” 

“Yes, I’d like that.” 

Slowly, Tim spun on one heel with his arms at shoulder-height. “Get a good enough look?”

“It doesn’t bother you at all to be so vulnerable?” 

“Of course, it does.” 

“You’re so brave,” Quarles said. 

“Are you kidding? I’m scared half to death.” 

“What you’re feeling is excitement. Exhilaration. You’re having intimations of becoming. It’s your destiny.” 

“And _you’re_ gonna help me be all I can be.” 

“Yes. I realize you’re being sarcastic, but you’ll see. And you’ll thank me.” 

“You’re not really writing a book, are you?” 

“What?” Quarles frowned in puzzlement. 

“You claimed to be writing a book.” 

“Oh, that. Yes, I needed a ruse to get close to you. It took a long time to get everything in place so my cover would be good enough to fool anyone. I actually had to write a book and get it published, but it was worth it. I’m here alone with you.” 

Raylan’s nose itched something fierce, but he dared not move to scratch. He was worried he would sneeze and alert Quarles that he was awake. He needed more time to think of a way to disarm the man without risking harm to Tim… or more harm, anyway. Too bad his head wound interfered with his ability to reason. He kept feeling like he was going to black out. 

“Yeah, you’re alone with me,” Tim said. “And I’m alone with a lying lunatic.” 

“I’m not crazy.” 

“But you _are_ a liar.” 

“Stop trying to provoke me.” 

“Are you going to threaten Raylan again?” 

“You know, you’re right. Threats don’t work on you. I’ll have to give you a practical demonstration of what I’m willing to do.” 

Raylan tensed, prepared to fight, as Quarles took a step toward him. 

“Hold on,” Tim said. 

“I’m listening.” 

“I’m cold. Can I put my clothes back on now?” Tim paused. “Please?” 

Quarles smiled. “Go ahead. Now that I can see you naked whenever I want, it’s quite titillating.” 

“I didn’t know people actually said that word out loud unless they were being funny.” 

Quarles took a step toward Raylan. 

“Okay. Stop. I’m sorry. That just slipped out,” Tim said. 

Raylan could see Quarles’ shoes just a couple of feet away, but it was too far to launch a surprise attack. Quarles would shoot him with his own gun before he got off the ground. 

Quarles looked over his shoulder at Tim. “It’s going to get tiresome if I have to threaten Mr. Givens whenever I want your cooperation.” 

Raylan took a chance and opened his eyes. He looked past Quarles at Tim, who was buttoning up his jeans. He willed Tim to look at him. 

Tim glanced in Quarles’ direction and saw that Raylan was awake. Instantly, he looked away. “I said I was sorry, and I meant it. You don’t have to threaten anyone. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.” 

“You sound sincere.” Quarles looked into Tim’s eyes for a long moment. “Still….” He knelt beside Raylan and lifted Raylan’s right hand. With the tip of his knife, he cut an X into the back of Raylan’s hand.<

Not reacting to the pain was the hardest thing Raylan had ever done. Through sheer will, he lay unmoving as blood flowed over his skin. It was a relief when he passed out. 

“There,” Quarles said as he stood. “X marks the spot where I will nail his hand to the floor with this knife the next time I have to correct you.” 

“Understood.” 

“Good.” Quarles came to stand in front of Tim. “Sit down.” 

Tim sat. 

Quarles moved closer. 

“You want a blow job? Is that it?” 

“No!” Quarles took a half-step back. “Your filthy mouth is one of the first things we’ll work on.” 

“Sorry. It just seemed like you were—” 

“I am not a homosexual,” Quarles said firmly. “And when you’ve finished becoming, you will no longer have those perverted cravings.” 

“So… this is like some conversion therapy voodoo?” Tim grimaced. “Sorry. That just slipped out too. Hey! Wait!” He watched Quarles cross quickly to where Raylan lay and plunge the knife into Raylan’s hand, pinning it to the wooden floor. “Jesus!” 

“Where were we?” Quarles said as he turned to Tim. 

“Fuck!” Tim stared wide-eyed at Raylan’s hand, unable to tear his gaze away. 

“Look at me!” Quarles shouted. 

Tim looked up at Quarles. 

“That’s better,” Quarles said as he took another knife from his pocket. He held it up. “He has two hands, after all.” 

“That’s a very good point. Okay, you’ve convinced me you’re a no-shit dude.” 

Quarles cupped a hand behind his ear. 

“Sorry,” Tim said. “I meant to say that you’re a very serious man.” 

“Better. We have limited time here because someone will eventually show up and notice all the dead bodies, but I think we can linger just a bit longer. After that, I’ll take you to my sanctuary where we can refine the process of your transfiguration.” 

A retort rose to Tim’s lips, but he caught it by the scruff just in time and tamed it down to, “Whatever you say.” 

“Good. Very good.” 

Quarles sounded pleased with himself, Raylan thought, as he segued into consciousness again. That was good. If Tim could just keep him distracted, Raylan would find a way to take Quarles out or die trying. Raylan became aware of a screaming pain and opened his eyes enough to see his hand. Jesus Christ! He should have taken the chance and tackled Quarles when he cut his hand. Too late now. He was groggy, losing blood, and his hand was nailed to the floor, but Tim needed him. Somehow, he’d find a way. 

Tim cleared his throat. “So… you’re not queer. I mean gay. Or do I mean homosexual?” 

“I prefer the clinical term homosexual when I must speak of the perversion.” 

“I’m a little confused.” 

“Sweet angel, you are terribly confused. To see a shining soul so twisted and stunted by physical addictions is almost more than I can bear. The moment I saw you, I knew I had to rescue you.” 

“I guess I should thank you.” 

“Oh, you will, but before you do, you’ll curse me.” 

“Why?” 

“You won’t find certain aspects of your transformation pleasant.” 

“What aspects? If I may ask.” 

“You’re not ready for that knowledge. You must be purified first.” 

“Okay. How do we do that?” 

“You renounce your former life and embrace your new one.” 

“And you’re my new life?” 

Quarles beamed. “Yes, exactly.” 

“So, you’re not a homosexual, but you want to have sex with me.” 

“No! That’s wrong! I didn’t say that.” 

“Trust me, I’ve seen that look enough times to know what it means.” Tim smiled gently. “It’s all right. I won’t tell anybody.” 

“There’s nothing to tell. I have no desire to rut with you.” 

“Yeah, you do. And putting a knife through Raylan’s other hand won’t change that.” Tim glanced at the door. “Why don’t you lock it? And then you can do what you really want.” 

“That’s your demon talking. I don’t have those cravings.” 

Tim laughed softly. “I bet that if I touched your dick right now, you’d go off like a Fourth of July grand finale.” 

“Shut up,” Quarles said, but there was no force behind the words. 

“Come over here and give me something to shut me up.” Tim smiled the smile that Boyd had labeled his Full-Bore Fuck-me Face. 

Quarles moved toward him. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim fights back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading along. This fic was more of a sketch than a painting, more of an episode than a series, but I hope you enjoyed it. There is still an epilogue to come, so please check back. And thanks again for reading!

“Get up,” Quarles said. “We’re leaving.”

Surprised, Tim got up and started thinking furiously. If he was going to try to get away, he’d have to do it now. Once he was in a vehicle, his chances diminished. He decided to lunge at Quarles as he walked past him.

“If you’re thinking of jumping at me, think about this first. If you try to escape, I’ll kill Mr. Givens. If you come with me now, quietly, I’ll leave him here. Since I have his gun, his car, his badge, his wallet, and his phone, I’d say he’s…. What’s the word I want?”

“Pretty fucked?”

“No. The word is neutralized.” Quarles gestured with Raylan’s Glock. “Let’s go.”

As soon as Quarles and Tim were out the door, Raylan grabbed the knife handle and yanked the blade free. The pain almost made him pass out again, but he hung on. Using his left hand, he drew the Glock 26 from his boot and crawled to the door on knees and elbows. He raised the gun, fired, and missed. He fired again. His third shot blew out the back tire on driver’s side.

Behind the wheel, Tim turned the steering hard to the left and drove down the riverbank. The big car went into the water nose first and the back end came off the ground. Tim already had his window down and dove through it.

Quarles grabbed Tim’s ankle, but Tim kicked free and waded to shore. Quarles was on his heels, knife in hand. He’d dropped the Glock during the chaos, but that was all right. He did his best work with a blade.

“Come back here,” Quarles said as he followed Tim up the incline.

“Fuck you!”

Quarles put some extra effort into climbing and threw himself forward.

“Tim!” Raylan yelled from the top of the embankment.

Tim looked over his shoulder and dodged aside. The knife drew a red line down his forearm instead of slicing him open. Off-balance, he lost his footing and went down.

Quarles grabbed Tim’s clothes and climbed him like a ladder. Clutching a fistful of Tim’s hair, he hauled him to his feet and put the knife to his throat. “Careful, Mr. Givens,” he said.

Raylan sank to his knees, his vision graying out. It took all his strength and both hands to hold the gun steady. “Let him go,” he said.

“I’d rather die,” Quarles said from behind his human shield.

Raylan met Tim’s eyes. He smiled. “It’s a deal,” he said. He fired the Glock.

Tim felt the bullet pass through his hair before it struck Quarles’ hand. As soon as Quarles let go, Tim knocked the knife away from his neck. The blade cut into the meat of his palm, but he didn’t feel it. All his senses were locked on survival.

“No don’t!” Quarles said.

Tim ignored him, tightened his grip on the blade, and took the knife from him. “Shoot him,” he called to Raylan.

Quarles gave Tim a look of reproach before he grabbed for the knife. Tim skipped backward and threw the knife in the river.

“That was stupid,” Quarles said. “You might have had a chance with the knife. Now I’m going to take you apart with my bare hands.”

“I don’t think so.” Tim looked past Quarles at Raylan.

Raylan put a round through the back of Quarles skull. Tim recoiled and his eyes snapped shut as he was sprayed with hot blood. Quarles dropped to the ground like an abandoned marionette.

“Are you okay?” Raylan called out hoarsely.

“More or less.” Tim climbed up to where Raylan knelt. “How about you?”

“I think I have a concussion.”

“Your hand.”

“Hurts like a bitch.” Raylan stared sadly at his car. “You couldn’t drive into one of the buildings?”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“You’re damn right, you will.” Raylan looked down at Quarles’ body. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? I was in and out for a while there.”

“My honor is intact, at least the shreds of it are.”

Raylan smiled. “Have I ever told you I like you, Tigger?”

“Never.”

“You know, someday—”

“Whoa!” Tim caught Raylan as he passed out.

 

Break

 

It took a while, but Tim got Raylan back to the cabin. It had started raining, but he went back to the river and got Raylan’s phone out of Quarles’ pocket. Quarles’ bright blue eyes were open, staring blindly at the sky. After one glance, Tim kept his eyes elsewhere.

He took the phone, wallet, and badge back to Raylan, but Raylan was still unconscious. Miraculously, Raylan’s phone wasn’t locked, and in a few seconds, Tim had Rachel on the line. He gave her the bare details as she issued orders to the people around her. She assured him she’d be there as quickly as possible.

Tim went to sit next to Raylan on the floor. He took Raylan’s uninjured hand and held it until he heard a helicopter approaching. He went outside and waved to the hovering aircraft. The helicopter had landed, and Rachel jumped out followed by paramedics.

Rachel gave Tim a very unprofessional hug and then drew him aside to get more of the story. Law enforcement arrived and took over the scene. Tim, with Rachel at his side, answered all their questions and led them to Quarles and the wrecked car. He was commended for his bravery and released into Rachel’s care.

Rachel loaded Tim into the SUV delivered by the local Enterprise rent-a-car affiliate and drove away from the fishing camp. She eyed Tim, uncharacteristically silent in the passenger seat.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “I plan to take you for a check-up ASAP, but if there’s anything I need to know….”

“I’m fine. He made me strip, but he didn’t touch me. Raylan—”

“Will be fine. Don’t worry about him.”

“He saved my life.”

“That’s his job.”

Tim sank into the seat and looked out the window at the dreary sky.

 

Break

 

“Goddam!” Boyd exclaimed when Tim walked into the room. He hurried over to wrap Tim in a tight embrace. “Thank God, you’re all right.” He kissed Tim’s forehead. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again.”

Dewey and Danny came over and turned it into a group hug, and then everyone else got in on it. At the center of the hug, Tim leaned heavily on Boyd as tears flowed down his cheeks.

“Everything’s okay,” Boyd said softly and then repeated it a few more times.

But no matter how many times it was said, Tim knew that everything was not okay and wasn’t likely to be anywhere near okay for a long time to come.

 

Break

 

24K management insisted on Tim having a full battery of tests, both physical and mental. A therapist was hired to go on the road with Stone the Crowes. The news that Colt’s body had been found with a sickening number of stab wounds didn’t surprise anyone, and his murder was added to the list of crimes Quarles would never do time for. Rachel hired new members for the security team, and Boyd brought in his cousin Johnny from somewhere in the hills of Kentucky. Johnny arrived, shotgun in hand, and became a fixture. The tour went on like a freight train without brakes, hurtling forward across the miles and the days with hardly a moment to stop and catch a breath.

When Tim asked about Raylan, which was often, he was told that the bodyguard was getting the best of care and a damn nice bonus. It’s was Tim’s opinion that Raylan deserved a little more than some extra cash, no matter how much it was. Raylan had saved his life. Maybe even his sanity. He knew his friends talked about him behind his back, but he also knew they were just concerned about him, and he took no offense.

In fact, taking no offense had become Tim’s modus operandi since his encounter with Quarles. He was quieter, less prone to manic outbursts, and he showed up for band practice on time. He seemed committed to making everyone’s job easier rather than harder. It was impossible not to notice the change in him, but it was a positive change, deserving praise, not criticism. He was still as brash and unabashedly sensual, and his talent wasn’t diminished by so much as a millimeter. He still lit up the stage and his vocals were more heartfelt.

By the end of the twenty-city tour, Stone the Crowes were a music business phenomenon. They went from cult status to superstars over the course of four weeks. Critics hailed the band for their “driving energy and straight-ahead rock’n’roll,” and they singled out the lead singer as a “a Tasmanian devil on crank who spits fire and ice.” Heralded as the new biggest thing, Stone the Crowes’ management made the decision to take them to the West Coast where triumph followed triumph.

T was now very famous and becoming rich, but he wasn’t happy. A vein of dull regret ran through the bright gold façade of his new life. No matter how high a song charted, how much money he earned, how nice the shared mansion was, he could not fully enjoy it. There was a dark spot on the sun in his sky, and it cast a shadow over everything. He knew he couldn’t have his life back as it was before Quarles, but he hadn’t expected to feel so… lost, cut adrift from all that was warm and comforting. Not even Boyd’s embrace could soothe him.

Only in the glare of the spotlights, in the thunder of the rock’n’roll, and the ocean-roar of a sold-out concert crowd could he unleash the powerful emotions in performances labeled “blistering-hot,” “mesmerizing,” and “genuinely moving.” He was a star, just like Raylan had said on that long day when everything had changed, forever and irrevocably.  


His call sign was still Tigger, but he was a different man—a better man, and somewhat wiser, but also sadder.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion and a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains fairly graphic descriptions of m/m sex.

Epilogue

 

One year later….

 

The arena was packed to the rafters. It was a sold-out show, but the man without a ticket wasn’t worried about getting in. He had a badge.

As expected, his tin got him all the way backstage before he was temporarily stopped.

“Is that Mr. Givens?” Coover said. He held out his enormous paw. “Good to see you, man.”

Raylan let Coover envelop his hand and crush it for a couple of seconds. It had healed well, and he could almost draw his weapon with his old speed again. He’d also become quite proficient at a left-handed pull. He was even giving thought to a two-gun rig.

“It’s good to see you too,” Raylan said.

“You a cop now?”

“I am. Thanks to some glowing recommendations, I’ve been a Federal agent for five months.”

“You want to see the guys?”

“Not just yet. I’m here to see the show, and I wouldn’t want to throw anybody off with my surprise visit. I’ll come by after.”

Coover mimed locking his lips and throwing away an invisible key. “Well, I’m glad to see you lookin’ so good.”

Abruptly, Coover lunged toward Raylan. Alarmed, Raylan started back, but he wasn’t quick enough. Coover wrapped him in a bear hug.

“Thanks, man,” Coover said. “I just wanted to say that.” He let Raylan go.

Raylan straightened his hat. “I was just doing my job,” he said.

“Raylan Givens,” Rachel exclaimed as she caught sight of him from down the corridor. “How are you?” She stopped next to him. “And why didn’t you keep in touch?”

“I was working a lot.”

Rachel glanced at Coover. “You can get them to the stage, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Walk with me, Raylan,” Rachel said.

She took him to a spot reserved for security where he could watch the show without being part of the crowd. “Seriously, though, why no word from you?”

“I figured you knew I was okay, training for the Fed, and working.”

“I checked up on you, and Art let me know when you left Aegis. How do you like the ATF?”

“I like it fine. I get to catch bad guys.”

“And you’re not responsible for anyone’s life but your own.”

Raylan squinted at her. “I have no idea what you mean by that.”

“Uh-huh. Well, sure, okay, we’re professionals. I can deal with it.”

“With what?”

Rachel stared at him for a long moment. “Fine. Play it cool. Enjoy the show.” She walked away and even her footsteps sounded disappointed.

 

Break

 

Stone the Crowes were on fire that night. T was incandescent, throwing himself into the songs, the embodiment of the emotions in the lyrics. The crowd fed on the energy and broadcast it back a hundredfold. Raylan let it wash over him, swept up with the rest of the audience in the spell of the music. This time, he didn’t have to curb his appreciation of T’s raw, vibrant sensuality. When the show was over, he made his way back to the dressing room area. Coover wasn’t there, but Dickie let him in.

Boyd was the first to see Raylan. He let out a whoop that made everyone turn to look at him, but he was already halfway across the room. He threw his arms around Raylan, and Raylan’s Stetson flew off.

Raylan hugged Boyd back, looking over Boyd’s shoulder at the small crowd gathered in the green room. There was a stir and people started stepping aside, until Raylan could see to the back wall. He saw Tim standing frozen, mouth open, eyes wide with some indefinable emotion. Raylan met Tim’s gaze and did his best to communicate without words.

Tim walked toward Raylan like a man encountering a wolf in the wild, filled with equal parts wonder and fear. He moved slowly, cautiously, but with all his feline grace intact. He stopped a couple of feet away, all the cockiness drained out of him for the moment.

Then Raylan opened his arms, and Tim leaped forward. Raylan caught him and swung him around to avoid being taken off his feet. For a second, they were locked in a waltz step that felt so right neither wanted to let go.

“Goddam you,” Tim said hoarsely. “Why’d you wait so long?”

“It’s just now time for a new car, and since you owe me one….”

“Asshole.” Tim hugged him harder. “You can have a dozen cars. Just don’t be a stranger.”

“Sorry. I’ll explain; I promise.” Raylan glanced around at Rachel, Boyd, Dewey, Danny and the rest who were making zero effort to hide their eavesdropping. “In private.”

Tim pushed away from Raylan and took his hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rachel called after them.

“The hotel,” Tim said over his shoulder. “See you there… but not too soon, okay?”

“I guess it’ll have to be,” Rachel said as the door closed behind Tim and Raylan. “What the hell was that about?”

“You disappoint me, girl,” Boyd said. “You really cannot guess what Baby T is hopin’ will happen in that luxurious hotel suite?”

“I wish him well,” Rachel said. “But I have my doubts about Raylan.”

“My money is on my boy Tigger,” Dewey said. “I ain’t about the gay stuff, but sometimes when we’re on stage and playin’ so tight, I look at him and Boyd singin’ together, and I get a little tingle, know what I mean?”

“I surely do,” Rachel said. “Oops, did I say that out loud?”

Boyd laughed. “I think we’ll have to wait till tomorrow morning for a report on the seduction of Raylan Givens, so we might as well party.”

Rachel spoke into her mic, listened for a minute, and then relayed the information to the band members. “The limo is ready to take you to the after party at the club.” She escorted the band and their guests into the stretch limousine and wished them a good time. As the long car pulled away from the curb, she took off her nearly invisible headset and clocked out for the night.

 

Break

 

Raylan looked around the big back seat of the courtesy Town Car that had picked them up outside the stage door. “This year’s model,” he said as he ran hand over the upholstery.

Tim bit his lip. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“Did you miss me?”

“With every beat of my heart.”

Raylan looked up and met Tim’s gaze. “You’re not bein’ sarcastic, are you?”

“I am not. I missed you like I didn’t know you could miss somebody.”

“What?”

“I missed you a lot.” Tim paused. “But I respected your privacy. When you didn’t even check in, it was pretty clear you didn’t anything to with me—us anymore.”

“That’s just not true. I wanted to see you… but I also didn’t want to see you. I know that doesn’t make sense when you hear it, but I can ex—”

Tim shook his head. “You don’t need to explain. I get it. You feel some attraction, and it scares the shit out of you, so the best you can do is stay far away from me.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Except I wouldn’t have said _some_ attraction.”

Tim glanced out the window. “Hold that thought, though it might kill me. We’re gettin’ close to the hotel.”

“Suits me. The car isn’t quite as private as I’d like.”

“Aw, Coover don’t care, do you?” Tim said to the driver.

“Not a bit,” Coover said over his shoulder. “I don’t look in the rearview, just so you know.”

“What’s it like?” Raylan asked Tim.

“What?”

“Bein’ indulged by everyone around you?”

“You don’t indulge me.”

“The night is young.” Raylan smiled and turned to look out the window as they pulled under the porte-cochere of the New Orleans Ritz-Carlton. “Fancy,” he said.

“Wait till you see the tub.” Tim grinned at Raylan with a lift of wicked eyebrows.

“Now that’s the Tigger I know.” Raylan returned the grin, complete with eyebrows.

“Can you believe this place?” Tim said as they crossed the lobby. “Can you believe the Crowes are stayin’ here?”

“Looks pricey.”

“Like I’d know, right? Management pays the bills.”

“Sounding more like Tigger by the minute.”

They rode the elevator to the 12th floor and Tim keyed open the main door to the band’s suite of rooms. Raylan was suitably impressed by the trappings and said so.

“Drink?” Tim offered. “I’m sure as hell havin’ one.”

“I think it would be wise.” Raylan accepted the tumbler of whisky Tim handed him.

“Should we sit?” Tim asked. “Or is this going to be short and not-so-sweet?”

“I don’t honestly know, Tim.”

“Come on.” Tim led Raylan to his room. He sat on the end of the bed and gestured Raylan to the love seat. “Is this enough space for you?”

“Sure.” Raylan took a drink of the whisky. “First, I apologize for disappearin’.”

“I guess you had a lot of things to work out, huh?”

Raylan looked over at Tim. “I can see you’re tryin’ to make this easy for me, but would you let me tell it my own way?”

“I’m all ears.”

“I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but I suspect it was earlier on than I want to admit. I knew for sure when you didn’t let Quarles intimidate you.” Raylan smiled. “You played him like tic-tac-toe.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Raylan said sheepishly. “I thought it sounded cool.” He paused. “You said you wouldn’t talk.”

“No, I didn’t. I said I’d let you tell it your own way.” Tim sobered. “Quarles, though. What a bite in the ass, huh?”

“He was not playing with a full deck and that’s for sure.” Raylan paused. “You know I never cared for Colt, but he didn’t deserve what he got.”

“Continue, please. We can talk about Quarles later—and Colt too—if you want. I’ve personally talked enough about both to last me forever, but therapists are like that.”

Raylan took another sip of his drink. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time, but you’re right; I was afraid to see you.”

“You’re here now, so you must have grown a pair.” Tim grinned but let it fade when Raylan didn’t smile back. “Okay, I’ll be quiet.”

Raylan sighed, fussed with the crown of his hat, and then looked up at Tim. “You are without a doubt one of the bravest men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. You’ve got grit, son, and I’d be proud to call you friend.”

Tim regarded him steadily. “Is that it?”

“Well, goddam, Tim. That is not the reaction I expected.”

“Same here.”

“Give me a break. I can’t just blurt it out. I’m leadin’ up to it.” Raylan held out his glass, and Tim poured another shot. “Out of curiosity, the whole time you were flirtin’ with me, were you just screwin’ around, or did you know I was gettin’ attached to you?”

“God no. You hid it well. I thought your feelings for me were along the lines of contempt or maybe they were no feelings at all.”

“There were feelin’s. Especially that night in the sleepin’ bag.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Are you tryin’ to tell me you’re bisexual or at least curious? Because that would be great.”

“I’ve been attracted to exactly one other man in my entire life that I’m aware of, and it didn’t go well. I was his bodyguard, and I got attached. I trusted him. I never thought he’d lie to me. The lie nearly got him killed.” Raylan looked up from his glass. “A year ago, I made the same mistake.”

“But you saved me, so I’d say you redeemed yourself.”

“You would say that, and you’d probably think you were clever.”

Tim smiled. “This is nice. Like old times, but not so tense.”

“I’m kind of nervous.”

“You too?”

“I swore I wouldn’t do this, but… I couldn’t… I _can’t_ stay away from you.”

“Raylan, if you can’t say it, I’ll say it for you.” Tim grinned again. “You want me.”

“I’ll allow that you aren’t without your charms.”

“Damn, that’s like a full-blown confession of everlasting love from you.”

“Never said I loved you.”

“But you do.”

Raylan narrowed his eyes. “I have a powerful need to be in your company, that much I will admit. How do feel about that?”

“Uh. What? Are you saying you want to be with me?”

“If you’re agreeable.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m agreeable.”

“We’ll have to talk about what capacity—”

“No, we don’t. I’ll make sure everyone understands that you’re my stud muffin.”

“How much does something like that pay?”

Tim spread his arms wide. “Everything you see here.”

Raylan automatically took a visual tour of Tim’s lean frame. He swallowed. “That’s still on the table, as far as I’m concerned,” he said. “But it’s not a given. Hell, Tim, I don’t even know what I want. I know I want to be with you, but the rest is all up in the air for me.” He met Tim’s gaze. “I’m gonna ask you to be patient with me while I figure it out.”

“I can help with that.” Tim stood and crossed the short distance to Raylan’s chair. “One kiss and you’ll know.”

Raylan looked up, his face open and vulnerable. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Raylan,” Tim said softly. “You already know.” He reached out and stroked Raylan’s cheek.

Raylan grabbed Tim’s hand and held it. “Please,” he said and was not certain whether he meant “please stop” or “please go on.”

Tim leaned in until his lips were a breath away from Raylan’s. He wanted this more than he could remember ever wanting anything, but he waited until he saw permission in Raylan’s eyes.

Raylan was still until the warmth of Tim’s lips covered his. As if the touch released him from a spell, he rose to his feet and pulled Tim into his arms. He knew how to kiss and had even been told he was good at it. He had thought kissing a man would be different, but a kiss was still a kiss, and it was Tim he was kissing. He felt the tip of Tim’s tongue at the seam of his lips and the reliable heat at his core blazed into wildfire. He opened his mouth in invitation and tightened his hold on Tim.

Tim hooked his fingers through Raylan’s beltloops and pulled him even closer as the kiss deepened into a frank exploration. “Whoa,” Tim breathed as he drew back far enough to see Raylan’s eyes. “You feel that?”

“Yeah.” Raylan took a deep breath. “You’re as hard as I am.”

Tim chuckled softly. “Not what I meant, cowboy, but it’ll do for now.” He leaned back. “You’ve seen me naked. Ain’t it about time you reciprocate? Come on.” He eased out of Raylan’s embrace. “Show me what you got for me.”

Raylan shook his head. “I am not strippin’ for you, but I will get undressed.”

Tim was undoing Raylan’s buttons before he finished the sentence. He pulled shirt from Raylan’s pants and slid the sleeves down Raylan’s arms. Slowly, he sank to his knees, trailing his fingers down Raylan’s chest, over the cobbles of his abs, the silky treasure trail, down to the zipper of his jeans. Tim peeled open the evil denim that separated him from what he desired. “Thank you, Jesus!” he said, when he saw the curved ridge stretching the cotton briefs.

“Tim.” Raylan sucked in a breath when Tim reached into his briefs.

Tim wrapped his fingers around the suede-skinned shaft of Raylan’s hard-on and pulled it through the gap in the soft cotton. “What?” he asked, looking up at Raylan.

“Never mind.”

“You understand what I’m about to do, right?” Tim said, his breath warm on the head of Raylan’s dick.

Raylan nodded. He didn’t trust his voice. And then the wet, velvet heat of Tim’s mouth closed around the tip of his shaft, and he forgot to breathe. Raylan’s pulse was pounding in his ears before he remembered to take in air. What he couldn’t remember was ever being this excited about a blow job. He’d had more than his share of head, he reckoned, but the fact that it was Tim’s mouth on him took it to new level of pleasure.

Tim gripped Raylan’s hip, his fingers sinking into resilient muscles as he urged Raylan to let himself go. His other hand followed his mouth up and down on the sensitive shaft, slick with his saliva. With lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers, he used all his skills to give Raylan as much pleasure as a human could stand without bursting into flame.

Raylan threaded his fingers into Tim’s thick mane and thrust gently, moving his hips in gentle circles. He opened his eyes and looked down and a powerful emotion squeezed him in its grip, lifting him out of himself for a heartbeat. The consuming passion blended with the physical pleasure intensifying the rush.

Thrilled that Raylan had joined the action, Tim responded by doubling his efforts. Each panting breath, each moan, each thrust pleased Tim more than words could ever tell. The man he’d let get away and pined for every day was here with him and by a miracle, felt the same way he did. He felt Raylan’s shaft swell in his mouth and knew he was close. In that moment, he vowed he would not ask the universe for anything else, as long as he could have Raylan.

“Gonna go off,” Raylan choked out, unsure of the protocol, giving Tim a chance to get out of range if that’s what he wanted.

Tim let go of Raylan’s hip and smacked his left ass cheek hard.

Taken by surprise, Raylan snapped his hips forward, driving his hard-on deeper.

Tim leaned into it, letting go Raylan’s dick to cup his butt cheeks. He squeezed, holding tight, as he sucked and swallowed.

Raylan’s legs trembled as he came, and he dropped his hands to Tim’s shoulders to stay upright. His orgasm bloomed from his center and spread like red ink in water filling every cell with ecstasy. He tightened his grip on Tim’s shoulders as the reverberations lessened in strength like the ripples in a pond growing wider.

“Enough,” Raylan managed to say when Tim’s tongue swirled around the head of his dick. “You… want me to… pass out?”

“No, I sure don’t want that.” Tim licked his lips.

Raylan went to his knees and swept Tim into a fierce embrace. He claimed Tim’s mouth in a full-bore kiss that left no doubt as to how he felt about all this man-love stuff. As he tangoed with Tim’s tongue, he cupped his hand over Tim’s crotch and massaged the hardness under the denim. He swallowed Tim’s moans and the small cry of release, and he cradled the spent shaft as warm wetness seeped through Tim’s jeans. “I’ll do better next time,” he said.

Tim muffled his laugh against Raylan’s chest. When he could speak, he said, “I like your attitude, but I’m not complainin’.”

Raylan hugged Tim tighter. “And I can’t remember what I was afraid of.”

“It might be too soon to ask, but what does this mean exactly?”

“It means you turn me on like you’ve got the only key, and I want to be with you because… not just because of that, but because I like everything about you. Bein’ with you makes me feel good, plain and simple.”

“That works for me.”

“But I do have a job that I can’t just up and quit, so….”

“So, you let me know whenever you have free time, and I will fly to wherever you are. I’m willing to do that until you finally admit I’m more important than any job.”

“I figure that’s how it’ll be,” Raylan said.

“Because you’re smart. Now come here. I want to show you something.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just some piffle added on because I really wanted them to have a happy ending. Thanks so much for reading along.

Chapter Nineteen: Aftermath

 

Three months later….

 

It was dawn in the foothills of Kentucky. A fresh breeze carrying the chill of early spring blew in the open windows of the cabin. Soft green light filled the air when Raylan woke to the sound of Tim’s voice. Raylan propped himself on one elbow and saw Tim standing by the big front window singing softly.

“As sure as the sun is gonna set  
I know the moon’s gonna rise up  
You say my love is like a net  
But I’m the one here beside you  
Let me hold you now  
While the dawn lights up the sky  
Tomorrow I’ll still be here.  
I will never say goodbye  
No, never say goodbye.  
I will always be here for you.  
There’s rain on the roof and tears in your eyes  
The world’s under water today  
You say my love is a disguise  
But I’m not the one who walked away.  
Let me hold you now  
While the dawn lights up the sky  
Tomorrow I’ll still be—”

As though aware of Raylan’s gaze, Tim broke off and turned to face him.

“That’s beautiful,” Raylan said as he sat up. “Can I hear the rest of it?”

Tim turned to look at him. “Thanks. It’s not finished yet, but close. Damn close. I have two verses and a chorus. I just need a bridge.”

Raylan walked into the kitchen area. “You want coffee?”

“Sure.” Tim wrote on the notepad he held, and then looked up at Raylan who was busy in the kitchenette. “Man, I wish it could be like this always.”

“Like what?”

“Waking up feeling like a million bucks because I had world-class sex last night and, in a minute, my lover’s gonna bring me coffee while I work on a song.”

“Yeah, that does sound nice, but I ain’t got your talent.”

“You have your own charms, cowboy.”

Raylan set a mug of coffee in front of Tim. “Would you really want me around all the time?”

“Don’t mess with me. If you aren’t serious, don’t even—”

“You know….” Raylan gave a dramatic sigh. “The ATF just ain’t workin’ out for me. I don’t feel… fulfilled. I’m thinkin’ of lookin’ for new employment. Something that’s more of a challenge.”

“That’s a coincidence. I’m lookin’ for a full-time bodyguard.”

“I can’t—”

Tim put a finger on Raylan’s lips. “If I thought you’d just let me support you, I’d offer.”

Raylan bit Tim’s finger but gently. “I’d like to stay, if you’ll have me.”

“Done. And I’m not going to let you back out of this.” Tim took a sip of coffee. “So, what do you want to your job title to be?”

“I believe the position of stud muffin was on the table at one time.”

“It’s yours. What about your job description?”

“How does _meetin’ Tim’s needs_ sound?”

“Like music to my ears.”

“That’s settled then. Now I’m goin’ to make you breakfast. You’re lookin’ a little on the skinny side.”

“A twenty-four-city tour will do that to a body.”

“Not on my watch,” Raylan said. And so it began….


End file.
